Brother's Keeper
by Athena Alexandria
Summary: AU. After his divorce, Jack tries to fill the void by taking care of his pregnant sister, Claire. He's happy enough, or so he thinks, but Claire has other ideas. Jate/PB&J.
1. Chapter 1

This is just a little test to see if it's worth starting another WIP once I've wrapped up my current fic. I'm still working on coming up with a title and summary, so if anyone has any ideas about what I should call it, let me know and I'll take them on board. It's AU this time because I needed a break from the FFs and because I wanted to go back to writing something fluffy and mythology-lite. Everyone's back story is mostly the same, I just tweaked them a little to fit the concept. The only major difference is that Kate isn't a fugitive... ;)

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Chapter 1.

"_Bloody_ hell!" a voice cried, followed by a muffled crash, causing Kate to look up from digging through her purse for her keys.

At the other end of the hall, a girl she guessed to be about nineteen or twenty was struggling with an armload of groceries. Half of them had already slipped from her grasp as she tried to let herself in; frustrated that, at close to nine months pregnant, she couldn't bend down far enough to retrieve them, she kicked at one of the oranges that spilled out.

It rolled along the carpet, landing at Kate's feet. "You look like you could use some help," she told her with a grin as she stooped to pick it up.

"Thanks," the girl said with a sheepish laugh when Kate brought it back to her, dropping it back in beside a loaf of bread.

"No problem." Kate gathered everything up and put it back into the bags, taking all but the last one from her so that she was free to unlock the door.

"Where do you want these?" she asked her as she followed her into her apartment.

It wasn't the student pad that she was expecting. Everything – from the immaculate beige carpet to the black leather couch and modern furniture – was nice, but expensive and generic, sterile, except for a few sparse decorations like cushions and throw rugs, as though someone had been trying to make it seem homier.

"Just in the kitchen, if you don't mind," the girl called back over her shoulder. "I'm Claire, by the way."

"Kate," Kate introduced herself, glancing back over at her, trying not to let her gaze linger on anything for too long. It was none of her business. "I live in 4F."

"I haven't seen you around," Claire remarked as she led her into a large room with granite benches and a gleaming metal refrigerator.

Despite the state of the art appliances, it didn't look as though anyone had done much cooking there in a while: the countertop was bare expect for a coffee maker and kettle, and there was a stack of take out menus by the phone.

"That's because I just moved in a couple of days ago," Kate confessed, depositing her bags on the island.

She wasn't sure what else to do with herself, so she started to unpack, allowing Claire to direct her in putting things away.

"So are you from L.A.?" she asked.

"Iowa, actually," Kate corrected her, forcing a smile.

Claire glanced over at her with a curious look. "That's all the way on the other side of the country, right?"

Kate knew from her accent that she wasn't American: British, or Australian, maybe? "Yeah," she agreed, bracing herself for the inevitable question. Her life before wasn't something that she wanted to talk about. She'd come to L.A. to start over, away from all of that.

As she swung the fridge door shut, her eyes fell on a picture of Claire standing beside an attractive man in his late thirties with a boyish smile that seemed to contradict his severe no nonsense crew cut. "Is this your boyfriend?" she asked, eager for a new subject. He seemed a little old for her: almost old enough to be her father. No wonder she was able to afford all this stuff…

Claire snorted with laughter, as though she'd just made a great joke. "No, that's just Jack. My brother," she elaborated when Kate just stared at her with a blank expression, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

"It's just that you don't look alike," Kate pointed out, concentrating on stocking the pantry to cover her blush at making such an embarrassing faux pas.

When she snuck a glance at Claire to check her reaction, she was relieved to see that she didn't seem bothered by her mistake. "That's because we both take after our mothers," she explained with a wry smile.

It was Kate's turn to be surprised. "You're only half siblings then?"

"Uh huh," Claire agreed with a nod, and Kate decided that she liked her open, friendly nature, so different to her own reserved one. "I didn't even know he existed until I went looking for my dad. It took him a while to get used to the idea, but then he said we could stay here for as long as we needed, so here we are."

She took two cans of soda from the fridge and offered one to Kate. "What about you? Do you have family here?"

Kate accepted it with a grateful smile. "No," she confessed. That was what had made moving to California seem like such an attractive prospect. That and the beach. She pulled the tab, leaning back against the island to take a sip.

"Friends?"

Again, Kate shook her head.

"A job?" Claire tried again.

"I do have one of those," Kate agreed with a self-deprecating laugh. "Today was my first day. I'm a nanny," she added off Claire's patient look. She'd spent most of her teen years watching the younger kids in her neighbourhood while she saved up enough to run away, so when it came time to look for work, she figured this was one of the few things she was qualified for.

"Good, so I know who to call if I ever need a babysitter," Claire teased her, patting her belly with her free hand.

"How long have you got to go?" Kate asked her. It was the first time that she'd made reference to her pregnancy; she got the sense that she had mixed feelings about it.

"Six weeks. _Thank God_," Claire complained, rolling her eyes with an exaggerated sigh. "Do you know, I can't remember the last time I actually saw my toes?" But she grinned to show that she didn't mind as much as she was letting on.

"You must be excited." Kate prompted her with a kind smile.

"Terrified," she admitted, averting her gaze to her can, tracing the rim with her finger.

A shadow passed over her doll-like features, changing her expression to one of almost shame as she confessed, "I think I would have put the baby up for adoption if it wasn't for Jack." Her voice was so soft now that Kate had to strain to hear it. "He found me an OBGYN here and told me he would help me if I wanted to keep it."

Her admission took Kate by surprise. She didn't know what to say; she didn't want to give her the impression that she was judging her. "Your brother sounds like a great guy," she answered carefully. "You're lucky to have someone like that looking out for you."

"I know," Claire agreed with a watery smile, wiping her eyes with back of her hand. "I worry about him though – I really wish he'd let me do something to repay him."

A moment later, she was back to her ebullient self. "Hey, you wanna see the nursery?" she asked. "It's almost finished."

Kate didn't feel like going back to her empty apartment yet, so she nodded. "Sure," she agreed with a smile, setting her empty can on the bench.

She trailed after her into a hall that, as best as she could make out, branched off into two bedrooms, a bathroom and a home office.

Jack's, she decided.

"This is where Master Aaron will be sleeping," Claire announced in a grand tone, throwing a fifth door open to reveal a small room furnished with a crib, changing table, rocking chair and matching dresser, all in a monochromatic blue and white colour scheme.

"Let me guess – it's a boy?" Kate teased her.

"I hope so," Claire agreed. She slid open the top drawer of the dresser, shifting a pile of pastel t-shirts aside until she found what she was looking for. "Jack already has his team picked out for him."

"Oh my God," Kate breathed, breaking into a grin when Claire shook out a tiny Red Sox jersey. It was a perfect miniature of the ones she'd seen the players wearing on TV. "That's so sweet."

"I know, isn't it?" Claire gushed, folding it back up. "He's pretty excited about being an uncle. Just look at all this stuff."

Kate let her eyes wander from Claire, back to their surroundings, marvelling at how much work had gone into getting everything ready. "You're telling me your brother did all this?"

"Not _all_ of it," Claire assured her. She shot her a sidelong glance as she replaced it and closed the drawer. "But he did pay for most of it."

"He must have a lot of money," Kate remarked with a wry smile, in two minds as to whether or not she should be impressed. He must not have any children of his own if he could afford to spend this much on his nephew.

She almost laughed when Claire explained, "He and our dad are both surgeons." The man she was describing sounded too perfect to be real: sweet, handsome, rich… _and_ a doctor. And to top if all off, he had a soft spot for kids.

"He's a pretty good one from what I hear," Claire continued in an innocent tone, stealing another glance at her. "He's won a bunch of awards. You should see his office…"

She was still rattling off his list of accomplishments when the front door slammed and a male voice called out to her from the foyer. "Claire?"

"Speak of the devil," she said in a conspiratorial tone. "I was hoping he'd be home soon so you could meet him."

She didn't wait for Kate to respond, cupping her hands around her mouth to shout back at him. "We're in here! The nursery!"

She heard his footsteps grow louder and then he was right outside. "Have you eaten? Because I was thinking we could just order…" he continued as he rounded the corner, trailing off when he saw that she wasn't alone.

He must have bent his knees when the picture was taken, so that they could both fit in the frame, because he was much taller than he'd appeared at a glance, his long, lean body clad in a red dress shirt and tailored dark suit.

His soulful brown eyes held Kate's for a moment, his mild expression impossible to decipher, before he shook himself out of it, turning his attention back to Claire.

"Sorry, I didn't realise you had company," he told her, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck in what seemed to be an unconscious gesture.

If Claire saw how awkward he was, she didn't let on. "Jack, this is Kate," she announced, looking almost smug as she glanced from one to the other. "She just moved into Mr. Stevenson's old place."

"Hey," he greeted her, flashing her the same lop-sided grin that had caught her eye in the picture.

"You're American," was all that she could think to reply when she noticed that his accent was different to Claire's.

"California born and bred," he agreed with a quizzical smile. "Is that important?"

She could feel her cheeks warming. "No, I just thought…" she stammered with a flustered laugh, chastising herself for getting tongue-tied like a schoolgirl with a crush. She'd met plenty of good-looking guys and none of them had affected her like this before; she silently cursed Claire for talking him up into a god among men so that she had no idea how to act around him.

"I was Australian too?" he supplied, looking amused.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. "Yeah."

"It's okay, everyone makes that assumption," he assured her. "My dad met Claire's mom in Sydney around the time I went off to college. She raised Claire there after he came back to the States."

He let out a soft, awkward chuckle when he saw that Kate still wasn't following. "It's complicated," he finished with a shrug. "We're still piecing it together ourselves."

Great. He must think that she was an idiot now, incapable of intelligent speech, she realised. "I should be going," she told them, trying to remember where she'd left her purse. "I still have to finish unpacking."

"Well you're welcome to come back over any time," Jack told her as he and Claire wandered after her, towards the kitchen. It was still on the on the island where she'd put it with the rest of the bags; she pulled the strap over her arm. "I'm sure Claire wouldn't mind showing you around."

The familiar emotion that swept through her at his invitation caught Kate off guard: disappointment, she noted with surprise. Already, he had her intrigued; she wouldn't mind getting to know him better, but he only seemed interested in her as a potential friend for Claire. "I'll remember that," she agreed, forcing a polite smile. "It was nice meeting you, Jack."

"You too, Kate," he echoed. He held out his hand; his palm was warm, and softer than she would have imagined. "I guess we'll see you around."

"I guess so," she agreed.

"If you need help with anything else, just let me know," she told Claire, but her new friend wasn't ready for her to end her visit just yet.

"I have a great idea," she announced, just as Kate was about to make her escape. She turned to Jack with an enthusiastic smile. "Why doesn't Kate stay for dinner..?"


	2. Chapter 2

Wow! I wasn't expecting such an enthusiastic response for a nameless, summary-less fic, so thanks! (Still no luck on the title, so once again, if anyone has any ideas...) I was actually surprised that more people didn't guess where I was going with it, though, since Claire's about as subtle as... something that isn't very subtle at all... ;)

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Chapter 2.

Kate glanced over at Jack. "I…ah…I don't wanna intrude," she said. The last thing she wanted was to cause problems between them.

"Don't be silly!" Claire insisted. "We all have to eat, right?"

She nudged her brother, fixing him with a pointed look. "I'm sure Jack won't mind."

"No, of course not," he agreed, clearing his throat, but he didn't look happy about it. In fact, he looked decidedly _un_happy.

Claire, however, seemed quite pleased with herself. "Great," she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

She grinned at each of them in turn. "Jack, why don't you get Kate a drink while I go find something to make for dinner?"

Kate could see by his expression that he was surprised. "_You're_ cooking?" he repeated with a dubious frown.

"As a matter of fact I am," she retorted with a smug grin as she began pulling things back out of the pantry. "So you can close your mouth right now."

"Here, do you want some help?" Kate offered, moving towards her, but Claire waved her off.

"You've already done enough for me today. You just sit down, relax…"

She turned back to Jack. "You know what you should do? You should open that bottle of wine," she suggested.

Kate snuck another wary glance at Jack. He looked like he was about to protest before Claire interrupted him in an exasperated tone.

"Come on, Jack – it's been in the fridge as long as I've lived here and I'm not gunna drink it with you," she insisted, rubbing her swollen belly for emphasis.

He let out a soft, defeated sigh, shooting his sister a disgruntled look that said there would be a conversation about this later, once Kate had gone. "Would you like a drink?" he asked her.

Kate wasn't sure that she should accept when there was clearly something else going on, but she didn't want him to think that she was rude. "Sure – if you're having one," she agreed with an uncomfortable shrug. She hoped that hadn't been saving it for a special occasion.

He plucked a bottle from the top shelf of the refrigerator, and armed with two glasses, lead the way out of the kitchen.

"Is she always like this?" she asked as soon as they were out of Claire's earshot, trailing after him into the living room.

She found herself feeling awkward at being alone with him: there was something almost date-like about it as she perched at a safe distance from him, on the other end of the sofa, watching him loosen his tie and shrug out of his coat.

"Yes and no," he agreed as he popped the cork and filled each glass with the crimson liquid. "She can be a little… _enthusiastic_… but she's never tried to set me up with one of the neighbours before. She must really like you."

He flashed her his trademark grin as he handed one to her. "Of course the last new tenant we had was this eighty-six year old widow – Mrs Pearlman – who still thinks my name is Ian…"

She was so startled that she almost sloshed the wine over herself as she took it. "_Ian_?!" she repeated, cracking up at his baffled expression. "I wonder where she got _that_ from."

"I don't know, but it's easier if I just answer to it," he confessed with a laugh, a soft, musical sound that made her heart beat a little faster.

"Is that what you think she's doing? Setting us up?" she asked, intrigued, when they recovered. She couldn't say that the same thought hadn't crossed her mind.

Or that it bothered her as much as she knew it should.

Claire's brother _was_ gorgeous, after all.

He twisted around in his seat to peek back into the kitchen, and so did Kate…

…Just in time to see Claire divert her attention back to the stove.

"I'm sure of it," he agreed with a grin as he turned back to Kate.

She could feel Claire's eyes on them again now that she thought they weren't looking. She leant closer to him. "In that case, I say we humour her," she told him in a low voice, sipping her drink to hide her impish grin.

A slow grin spread over his face in response and she could almost feel Claire's excitement; see her jaw drop in her mind's eye.

"So your sister tells me you're a surgeon, and a pretty good one at that," she teased him. "She said you've won a lot of awards."

He raised an eyebrow at her, glancing back in the direction of the kitchen, where Claire was still pretending to be absorbed in what she was doing. "Oh, she did, did she?" he asked, but he gave up trying to look mad when Kate laughed.

"Yeah. You're pretty much all she talks about – to me at least."

"What about you?" he asked, setting his drink down on the coffee table. "What do you do?"

She felt herself blush again at having his full attention. "I'm a nanny," she told him. "I just started working for this family over in Silver Lake. They have two kids, a boy and a girl – Jayden's almost four and Sophie is eighteen months. They're a lot of fun."

She trailed off when she realised that this was probably more information than he was asking for, but when she snuck a glance at him, she saw that he was still listening.

"Wow. You must really love kids," he said.

"Who doesn't?" she agreed.

"Can't say I've had a lot of experience – unless you count patching them up in the ER," he confessed with what was almost a wistful expression.

She was surprised that a guy like him was still unmarried, and seemingly unattached, at his age. "Something tells me you'd be good at that," she said. He was already shaping up to be a pretty amazing uncle.

She smiled at him and he smiled back, but before they could get any deeper into the conversation, Claire poked her head back into the room.

"Sorry to interrupt, but dinner's ready," she announced with a self-satisfied smile that made Kate remember her earlier awkwardness.

"You can sit here, next to me," she told Kate, pointing to the chair closest to the door when they followed her back through to the table.

Kate did as instructed, but it wasn't until she glanced up that she realised Claire had strategically placed her opposite Jack; their eyes locked for a fraction of a second and then she shifted her gaze to the plate that Claire set in front of her.

"So you two looked like you were having a nice chat," Claire piped up in a casual tone as she took her own seat, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had descended over the kitchen. "Do you mind if I ask what it was about?"

"Work," Kate explained with a non-committal shrug.

She caught Jack's eye. "Boring stuff," he agreed, struggling to hold back his grin.

Claire looked slightly miffed as she glanced from one to the other, trying to decipher this. "Fine. _Don't_ tell me," she teased them as she went back to eating.

"This is great, Claire," Jack told her, trying to steer her away from the subject.

He forced a painful grimace as he swallowed and Kate almost laughed.

The chicken was dry, the rice crunchy and raw in some places. "Really great," she lied, reluctant to hurt Claire's feelings when she'd been nothing but welcoming of her.

She knew that she'd made the right decision when Claire beamed. "Aw, you guys are so sweet."

For the rest of the meal, she did most of the talking while Jack and Kate exchanged amused glances at her obvious attempts to get them to interact.

Finally, she let out a theatrical yawn and stood. "I think I'm gunna take a bath and go lie down," she told them as she gathered the empty plates and carried them over to the sink. She patted her belly with an affectionate grin. "No doubt this little monster will be keeping me awake again tonight."

Kate moved to get up too.

"You don't have to leave on my account," Claire insisted. "At least finish your drink."

She turned back to her brother. "Since I made dinner, you're on clean up," she told him; then, as if the idea had just occurred to her, she added, with a sly smile, "Maybe Kate can help you."

"Thanks, Claire, but I got it," he assured her, rolling up his sleeves with a long-suffering expression.

"Are you sure? Because I don't mind," Kate insisted, setting her glass on the counter and moving over to his side.

He considered this for a moment, flashing her a grateful smile as he turned on the taps. "There should be a dishcloth in that cabinet just there…" he told her, pointing.

Claire seemed to decide that her presence was no longer needed. "You two have fun," she called back over her shoulder as she disappeared down the hall; a few minutes later, Kate heard the bathroom door slam behind her.

She couldn't help the smirk that crept onto her face as she accepted a plate from Jack.

"What?" he pressed with a self-conscious frown.

"Do you _always_ let her boss you around like this?" she asked him, pleased when she managed to draw out another laugh.

"She means well. I think she's convinced herself that she moved in here to take care of _me_," he explained and Kate found herself laughing too.

"Thank you, for helping her out today," he continued when they lapsed back into a comfortable silence.

"She's a great kid," Kate assured him with a smile. Already, she could see her becoming like the little sister she'd always wanted.

"She is," Jack agreed, lost in thought as he plunged a handful of cutlery into the water.

They continued working without speaking until he slid the plate he was holding into the drying rack and straightened, shaking the suds off of his hands. "I'd really appreciate it if you could look in on her from time to time," he said, his look almost apologetic, as though embarrassed about asking such a large favour of someone he'd only met a few hours before.

"I worry about her, being on her own," he confessed. "But I work long hours so I can't always be here…"

Kate didn't like the idea of Claire spending so much time alone this close to her due date either; it didn't hurt that it would give her an excuse to see him again. She nodded. "Sure," she agreed.

Then, as an afterthought, she added, "I had a good time tonight – I'm glad she invited me."

"Me too," he agreed with a warm smile.

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Since I was asked about other Losties (and was already considering it), I have a quick poll for you: Who would like to see an appearance from Charlie later in this fic? ;)


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the reviews. Hopefully this chapter will put some of Jack's behaviour into context... ;)

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Chapter 3.

"What time did Kate get off last night?" Claire asked, pulling her bathrobe on over her nightshirt as she wandered into the kitchen where Jack was dressed and sipping from a mug while he scanned the morning paper.

He spat out the mouthful of coffee he'd just drunk, wondering if he'd heard her right. "Excuse me?" She couldn't be implying what he thought she was implying… could she?

In the months that she'd been staying him, he'd gotten to know her pretty well, but he still wasn't comfortable talking about his sex life with his baby sister, even if there _was_ anything to talk about.

"When did she leave?" she translated, giving him a strange look; he tore a paper towel off the wrack, dabbing at the stains on his shirt to hide his embarrassment.

He wasn't sure what had caused his mind to go there: maybe it was knowing how much his sister wanted something to happen between him and Kate, or maybe it was just because it had been so long…

"I don't know… Nine? Ten?" he told her, even though in reality it was closer to midnight. Kate had stuck around long enough to help him finish the bottle before saying goodnight and crossing the hall back to her own apartment, but if they both hadn't had work in the morning, they probably could have kept talking.

Claire seemed happy with his answer, her smile brightening as she manoeuvred herself onto a stool at the bench. "So what d'you think of her? Kate?" she asked, pouring herself a bowl of cereal.

"She seems… nice," he allowed as he made himself another cup of coffee, reluctant to give her any kind of encouragement despite joking with Kate about humouring her. He didn't want her to get her hopes up: between his job and his family, the last thing he had time for was a relationship, especially with someone he would still have to see every day if things went bad.

What he could use, however, was a friend, and so could Claire; having Kate over made for a nice change in their routine.

"Pretty, right?" she probed with a grin when he didn't say anything else, trying to elicit a more enthusiastic response from him.

She had him backed into a corner and she must have known it. "Yeah, I guess," he agreed. Only a blind man would fail to notice how beautiful their new neighbour was – in an effortless way that was sure to make her unpopular with a lot of the women he knew – with her long chestnut curls and wide grey-green eyes.

"Her hair is _gorgeous_," Claire continued, almost as if sensing his thoughts. "I wish I could get mine to curl like that."

The shrill of his pager saved him from having to come up with another noncommittal answer; a quick glance at the screen told him that it wasn't urgent, but he decided against letting Claire in on that fact. "I really need to get to the hospital – can we talk about this some other time?" he asked her. He would have to have a word with her about it eventually, before it got out of hand, but for now, he might as well give her fun.

"Sure," she agreed, but he could see that she was disappointed as she went back to eating her breakfast in silence.

Her intentions were good; he couldn't help feeling a little guilty for making excuses to avoid her as he let himself out into the hall…

…Where he almost ran into Kate, coming from the opposite direction.

"Hey," he greeted her, flustered by at finding himself face to face with her, the conversation he'd just had with Claire still fresh in his mind.

"Hi."

He was so distracted by her smile that it took him a moment to notice the feint traces of make up that adorned her features. "I wouldn't have picked you for such an early riser," he said, gesturing to her purse. She looked like she was on her way out as well.

"Normally I'm not," she confessed, shifting her weight, flashing him a sheepish grin, "but Rebecca – the mom I work for – called. She has a meeting at the gallery this morning and she needs the kids out of her hair."

"She's an artist?" he repeated. It was hard to believe that even after all the time he'd spent talking to her the night before, there were still so many things that they hadn't covered.

They'd stuck mostly to safe topics – Claire, her charges, his patients, L.A. –, avoiding more complicated issues like why he was still single and her reasons for leaving Iowa, but somehow, he still hadn't gotten around to asking much about her employers.

"Art historian, I think," she corrected him, sneaking a glance at her watch; when she spoke again, her tone was apologetic, "Listen, I hate to be rude, but I've gotta go catch a bus…"

He wasn't lying when he told Claire that he had to get to the hospital, which is why he didn't know what made him offer, except that he was enjoying her company more than he was prepared to admit. "If you're in a hurry, why don't you let me drive you?"

"Thanks, but it's right out of your way," she reminded him as he followed her into the lift.

"I've got time," he assured her, curious about the place where she worked. He wasn't even interested in dating her, and yet _she_ interested him. She was so unlike any of the women that he'd been involved with.

"You don't have to do that," she argued, shaking her head. "I'm fine. Really."

Her hesitant smile convinced him that she was only refusing him to be polite. "Come on, I insist," he told her as they stepped out on the first floor, his hand drifting to the small of her back, guiding her towards the parking lot. "You're looking out for my sister – it's the least I can do."

He wasn't thinking about what he was doing when he touched her; to his surprise, she didn't shy away from the contact. "Okay," she agreed finally, following it with a decisive nod.

"If you insist," she added in a playful tone, her eyes dancing with amusement, which he couldn't help but return.

"This is yours?" she asked with a sceptical frown when he stopped alongside the beat up old Ford Bronco he'd bought after his divorce. It wasn't very sleek or sexy as far as cars went, but it was sturdy and dependable: he could always rely on it to do what he needed, which was more than he could say about some people.

"Don't tell me you're impressed?" he teased her, opening the passenger's side door for her.

Her eyes darted back to him in surprise, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I am, actually," she agreed, accepting the hand he offered to help her into the cabin.

She flushed slightly as she explained, "I figured you'd be driving a BMW or something."

Would it be a good idea to tell her that he _had_ driven one, before he'd decided that that just wasn't him? "It's in the shop," he deadpanned, breaking into a grin when she did. She had the sweetest smile... Why hadn't he noticed that before?

"So where to?" he asked, swinging into the driver's seat beside her. "You said Silver Lake, right?"

"Apex Avenue," she agreed.

It took him a moment to find it on the map, and then he backed out of his space, turning left instead of right, as he normally would.

"You know, I don't think I've been out here before," he confessed when her directions took them across town to an affluent neighbourhood with some of the more creative architecture he'd seen. He hadn't even been aware that they painted houses in those colours.

"Really? I thought you grew up here – in L.A., I mean," she said.

"It's a big city," he reminded her, "and I don't really get time to do much exploring." He couldn't remember the last time he'd driven somewhere other than his parents' house or the hospital. Not since before Claire arrived.

She'd had taken it upon herself to handle most of the household errands – from buying groceries and picking up his dry cleaning, to calling the plumber to fix the cracked pipe in the bathroom – because, as she frequently complained, if left up to him, he usually forgot.

"Too busy saving lives, huh?" Kate teased him.

"Something like that," he agreed with a wry smile, pulling up in front of an attractive green house decorated with mahogany trim. "Wow."

"I know – it's amazing what people will pay for a house that small," she quipped as they sat for a moment, part of him wishing that the drive hadn't been so short.

At the sound of an engine outside, the front door opened, and a little boy appeared.

"So I guess I'll see you tonight?" she checked, a hopeful note in her voice as she reached over into the backseat to collect her purse.

He wanted to tell her that last night was the exception; that both her and Claire would probably be asleep by the time he finished up, but instead, he found himself agreeing with her. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to rearrange his schedule a little, so that he could be home for dinner more often. He was sure that Claire would appreciate it.

She smiled as she slid out of the truck. "Thanks for the ride, Jack."

He watched her call out to the boy with a grin, taking his hand when she met him on the steps; he waited until they disappeared inside the house to start his truck up again and make the lonely drive back to the hospital.

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Next chapter: Claire invites Kate to a party downstairs... ;)


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for the reviews. ;)

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Chapter 4.

"So what did you think of Jack?" Claire asked, pulling a handful of books from the carton in front of her.

She had invited herself over after Kate finished work under the guise of helping her unpack, going through the usual pleasantries before revealing her true agenda.

"He's… sweet," Kate allowed. That much she'd managed to get right.

He wasn't at all what she was expecting after Claire bragged about what a successful surgeon he was.

Kate hesitated before confessing, with a thoughtful smile, "You know, he gave me a ride this morning."

As soon as the words left her mouth, she began to regret them.

Claire, who had been pretending to read the back of the one of the books, deposited them in a pile on the coffee table. "Really?" she said, stretching out the sound.

"Yeah." Kate returned her attention to the task at hand. "We ran into each other in the hall just as I was about to miss my bus, so he offered to drive me."

Claire smirked to herself as she reached back into the box. "That's funny, because he left here in kind of a rush," she mused.

He hadn't seemed like he was in that much of a rush as they sat together in the early morning traffic. "Men, huh?" Kate joked, a slight flush creeping into her cheeks at what Claire was implying. It wasn't like he was hurrying to catch up with her. He didn't even know she was going to be there.

Not that she minded seeing him again.

She concentrated on ordering the clutter amassing in the living room, letting the conversation die out until Claire asked, "When's your birthday?"

"June," she told her, lost as to what this had to do with anything. "Why?"

"You should let me draw up your chart," Claire insisted, collapsing the empty carton.

"Your star chart? Horoscope?" she added, leaning it against the side of the couch.

"You're into astrology?" Kate asked, glancing up at her with an incredulous frown.

Claire laughed. "This is the part where you tell me it's a load of rubbish, right?" she teased her.

"No, I'm just surprised, that's all," Kate explained. How could two people as different as her and her brother come from the same gene pool? "Jack's a doctor…"

"Well I didn't grow up with him," Claire reminded her.

"My mum was a bit New Age-y," she explained, her smile wistful. "She believed in fate and all that stuff."

Kate couldn't help noting her use of the past tense, but before she could ask, Claire changed the subject again. "Hey, I just remembered – this couple downstairs are having a party tonight. You should come!"

"Don't you think that would be a little weird?" Kate argued. She'd never really been one for large gatherings. "I mean I don't really know them…"

"Laura won't mind," Claire assured her with a dismissive wave of her hand. "She loves having people over. And I can introduce you to everyone."

She looked so excited that there was nothing left for Kate to do but agree. "Fine," she told her with an apprehensive laugh.

Maybe a block party wouldn't be so bad…

"So does… Jack… normally go to these things?" she asked, slicing open another carton, trying to sound as though she was just curious.

Claire fixed her with a knowing smile. "He will tonight."

* * *

"Going somewhere?" Jack asked when he followed the sound of Claire's voice into the bathroom to find her putting on make up.

Since entering her third trimester, she'd stopped going out of an evening – except on the rare occasions that he or their father made it home early enough to take her to dinner – so he was surprised to see her wearing her best maternity dress.

He wondered if it had something to do with Kate.

"Laura and Steve's party," she agreed without tearing her gaze from her reflection, brushing mascara onto her lashes.

"That's tonight?"

She froze mid stroke, shooting him an exasperated look in the mirror. "Don't tell me you forgot."

He ran his fingers through his hair, flashing her a penitent smile. He remembered hearing something about it, but he hadn't taken much note of the details since he'd never had any intention of going.

The last time he'd attended on one of those parties was with Sarah.

"I guess it must have slipped my mind," he confessed, bracing his hand against the doorframe as he watched her apply a fresh coat of pink lipstick.

"Well you should come. You could do with some fun," she insisted.

How many more ways were there for him to tell her he was fine? That he didn't need anything else in his life?

He had her and the baby, and his job, and that was enough.

"Thanks, Claire, but I think I'm gonna turn in early. I've got surgeries all day tomorrow."

"Kate will be there…" she continued in a singsong tone, as if he hadn't spoken.

"Are you done in here?" he asked her, coming the rest of the way into the bathroom, doing his best to sound indifferent despite the interest the mention of her name piqued in him. "Because I really need to take a shower."

Claire eyed him with amusement as she dropped the lipstick into a beaded purse, sweeping her collection of pots and tubes back into the drawer. "I'm gunna take that as a no – for _now_ – but if you change your mind, you know where to find us."

* * *

Claire had left by the time he finished up in the shower; he made a sandwich and settled himself on the couch with one of the journals that were piling up on his desk.

But he hadn't made it more than half a page into the first article when distant music and laughter caught his attention, drifting up through the stairwell.

Maybe I _should_ put in an appearance – just for an hour or so, he thought. At the very least, it would get Claire off his case.

He tossed the journal aside, pushing himself to his feet, letting them carry him towards the sounds, down to an apartment on the third floor.

"Wow, I didn't think we'd see you, Jack," a woman a few years younger than himself – whose name he couldn't recall, or never knew to begin with – told him as she welcomed him inside. "Although Claire did say you might be down."

Over her shoulder, he spotted his sister, on the other side of the living room with Kate.

For a moment, he was transfixed by the sight of their new neighbour dressed in a dark top and fitted navy jeans that clung to her in all the right places, her long hair tumbling loose down her back for the first time since he met her.

"Pretty, isn't she?" the woman – Laura, he finally remembered – whispered, following his gaze. "A little reserved, but pretty."

He managed a polite smile back. "Everyone seems to be having a good time," he remarked, hoping to shift the focus off of himself.

But it was futile. He remembered something else Claire had told him then: she was one of the biggest gossips in the building.

Not that Claire could talk.

"You better move fast – Steve invited a couple of his single friends from work," Laura warned him with a good-natured laugh.

He wasn't sure why, but the thought of other men hitting on Kate bothered him, especially when he hadn't had the chance to check them out first.

"I'll keep that in mind," he told Laura as she patted his shoulder and wandered off to play hostess to another group of people he recognised from around.

Claire's back was to him, so Kate saw him first, acknowledging him with a tiny wave as he wove through the crowd.

"You made it," she greeted him with a sunny smile when he reached them.

"So much for an early night," Claire teased him, aiming a playful blow at his bicep.

She swallowed the last mouthful of orange soda from the plastic cup she was nursing. "I'm gunna go get some more soft drink – do either of you want anything?"

"I'm not staying," Jack assured her, before she could go getting any ideas. He wasn't even sure what he was doing there, just that he'd felt compelled to come down.

"You can't _still_ be on call?" Kate insisted, her brow furrowing with what could be taken as concern. Her expression reminded him a little of Claire's after he came home from working a double shift.

"I'm not," he confessed. "But I have surgery first thing in the morning."

"So where's the harm in one little beer?" she pressed. "You have all night to break it down."

Her smile was intoxicating. She had him there: how could he argue with logic like that? "Sure. Why not?" he agreed, returning her grin.

Claire was gone before the second word was even out, seizing on the excuse to leave them alone.

Or as alone as they could be in a room full of strangers; someone turned up the volume on the stereo, blasting a new song from the speakers, drowning out whatever Kate tried to say next.

He touched her elbow to make sure that she was watching before mouthing, "You wanna go somewhere where we can talk?"

The warmth of her skin under his fingers wasn't lost on him.

She nodded. "Sure," she agreed with a smile.

They drifted out the French doors, onto the balcony, where Laura's sixteen-year-old son was attacking the neck of a girl Jack assumed must be his girlfriend, hidden from the view of the rest of the party.

He snuck a glance at Kate, trying to figure out if it was making her uncomfortable as well, but if she noticed, she didn't let on; instead, she crossed her arms over the rail, breathing in the salt air as she tilted her face up to the night sky.

As he studied her profile in the moonlight, he was struck again by how beautiful she was.

"That little boy who came out to meet you this morning…?" He couldn't seem to get the image of watching them walk hand in hand into the house out of his mind.

"That's Jayden," she agreed, turning back to him.

"He really seems to like you," he pointed out.

She laughed. "That's because I watch _SpongeBob_ with him," she told him with a self-deprecating grin.

"_What_ Bob?" he insisted, sharing her smile, not sure that he'd heard her right.

"_SpongeBob_," she repeated.

"_SpongeBob SquarePants_?" she elaborated as though expecting the phrase to mean something to him, cocking an eyebrow when he just shook his head.

"You're gonna have to explain that to me," he confessed. It was years since he'd done his last paediatric rotation; now that most of his work was with cancer patients, accident victims, and the elderly, he'd lost touch with what kids were into.

"It's a cartoon," she told him, enjoying his confusion as she added, "About a talking sponge. He wears square pants and lives under the sea."

"I'll have to check it out," he teased her, grinning at her description.

As if sensing his fear that he wouldn't know how to relate to his nephew once he was born, she let her smile fade into a serious expression, nudging his arm where it rested a few inches from hers. "You'll learn."

"I wonder what's taking Claire so long?" he said when he realised that she should have found them by now. The apartment wasn't that big.

He turned back to see her chatting with Laura near the kitchen.

"I don't think she's coming back," Kate teased him, leaning her back against the rail.

"In that case, why don't I go get us those drinks?" he suggested, straightening. For the first time in a long time, he wasn't in any hurry to be someplace else.

"I've got a better idea," she insisted, holding out her hand. "Come dance with me, Jack."

"You want _me_ to dance?" he repeated, refusing to take it, no matter how tempting it was. That way would only lead to embarrassment, for both of them.

She laughed as she dropped it back to her side. "I take it you don't?" she teased him.

"I think the last time I danced was at my wedding," he confessed.

She seemed taken back by this new information. "You were married?" she asked, studying him in the dim light.

"For a little while," he agreed, his smile turning sad as he shifted his gaze back toward the ocean.

He was glad that she understood enough not to push him to talk about it. He didn't even know why he'd brought it up, except that he felt comfortable enough to relax his guards around her.

"Well when was the last time you did something spontaneous? Something fun?" she insisted, the corners of her lips quirking with amusement as she teased him, "Something other than work?"

It was his turn to laugh. "That's a good question," he told her, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish smile. Probably not since after he got divorced.

"Even surgeons get the weekend off occasionally, right?" she checked.

"Right," he agreed with a grin, wondering what exactly she had in mind.

"So what're you doing Saturday?" she finished with a hopeful look.

He hadn't thought that far ahead. Most of his time away from the hospital was spent catching up on paperwork and hanging out with Claire, both of which he was sure he could reschedule if there was something better on offer. "You tell me…"

* * *

Next chapter: What _does_ Kate have in mind? Or better yet, what will they do on their almost-date? ;)


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for the reviews. Sorry it's a little late, but as always, I struggle with fluff. This fic is actually a personal challenge: no island, mythology, triangle, legal drama, death, near death, terminal illnesses, dramatic pregnancies, visitations, custody battles, adultry, sexual abuse, drug/alcohol abuse or other causes of serious angst, because really, as many of you have mentioned, we're getting enough on the show! I just wanted to write a straightforward love story... ;)

* * *

Chapter 5.

"I'm intrigued," Claire announced from the couch when Jack passed her on the way to the door. It was Saturday morning, and instead of his usual suit or jogging shorts, he'd dressed for the day in a fitted grey t-shirt and jeans. "You're not going for a run and you're not going to work… Does this mean you finally decided to ask Kate out on a date?"

He could lie about where he was going, but it wouldn't end there. She would just go to Kate for the truth. "Actually, she asked me," he corrected her. "And it's not a date. Kate and I are just friends," he added before she could get too carried away with this information.

"Yeah, and I'm a virgin," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

At least that's what it sounded like. "What was that?" he asked her.

She lifted one shoulder in a languid shrug. "Nothing," she assured him, flashing him her sweetest smile as she folded her arms over her belly, turning her attention back to the TV. "Enjoy your _non_-date."

* * *

"I was just about to come and see you," Kate said when she answered his knock, a hairbrush tucked under her chin to free up one hand while she held her long curls back with the other.

She seemed flustered, as though she were in a hurry. "We're still on for today, aren't we?" he asked her as he followed her into the apartment, his eyes falling on her purse, packed and sitting on a chair by the door.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," she confessed as she finished tying her hair back into a ponytail.

"You have to work," he realised, his heart sinking as it occurred to him that, for once, he was looking forward to a day off, instead of dreading it, because of all the time it would give him to think. It was strange, being the one who was disappointed. He was used to doing the disappointing.

"Yeah. Sorry," she told him with a guilty smile. "One of the downsides to working for a single mom."

He nodded to show that he of all people understood. "Raincheck?" Maybe they could still do something later, when she got off…

He was surprised when, rather than agree, she flashed him a playful grin. "Since it's Saturday, I was thinking of taking the kids to the zoo. You should come. It'll be great practice."

While he knew she was right – it was something that he would have to get over, sooner rather than later – he couldn't help feeling wary at the thought of spending the day in the company of two small children. He had no idea what to say to them, how to talk to them…

"So much for spontaneity, huh?" he joked.

"You've obviously never left the house with a toddler," she teased him. "Trust me, it doesn't get any more spontaneous than that – whatever plans you _thought_ you had…"

There was something about her passion that made him want to set aside his fears, if only for the chance to see her at work. "I'd love to," he agreed with a smile. There were worse things that he could be doing. It might even be fun. "That is, if it's okay with your employer."

He could see that she was pleased at the prospect of introducing her young charges to him. "She's pretty laid back," she assured him as she tossed her hairbrush on top of a stack of boxes and picked up her purse. "She works from home a lot so there're people coming and going from the house all the time…"

* * *

"Rebecca, this is Jack," she told the blonde woman who met them at the door once she'd finished thanking her for coming over on such short notice.

"It's nice to put a face to the name," Rebecca said with a warm smile, offering her hand to Jack. "Kate's told me so much about you – I feel like I know you already."

"Nothing bad, I hope," he teased her when she flushed, surprised that she'd mentioned him, except maybe in passing. Then again, she was still settling into L.A.

"He's cute," Rebecca told her with an appraising nod, and a look that made Kate's cheeks flame a deeper shade of red; he recognised it as the same one he'd seen on Claire as he was leaving that morning.

"She was just saying how welcoming you and your sister – Claire, is it? – have been," she elaborated for his benefit. "So to what do we owe this pleasure?"

"I promised him we'd do something fun today, so I invited him to tag along with the kids and I to the zoo," Kate explained when she recovered from her embarrassment. "I hope that's all right?"

"Just bring them back in one piece – that's all I ask," Rebecca agreed with a dismissive wave of her hand, laughing to show that she was kidding.

"Although that shouldn't be hard for you," she added to Jack, though her smirk seemed to be directed at Kate.

Just then, a tiny girl – little more than a baby – entered the room, giggling as she tottered towards them on unsteady legs.

"Sophie!" Kate cried with a grin, stooping to catch her. "Did you miss me?"

"Yeah," the little girl agreed in her breathy baby voice as she swung her onto her hip.

"Yeah?" Kate repeated, laughing, bowing her forehead against hers so that their eyes were level.

"Well I'll leave you to it," Rebecca told her with a smile. She kissed the top of the little girl's head. "Be a good girl for Kate. Bye Jayden," she called back into the house.

"Say 'Bye, Mommy'," Kate prompted the little girl, lifting her hand so that she could see her wave.

"Bye," Sophie chirruped, opening and closing her palm, mimicking the gesture.

Kate waited until Rebecca pulled out of the drive to return her attention to Jack. "Jack, this is Sophie," she told him as she kicked the door shut.

Her movements were so smooth, so natural, that she almost looked like she could be the child's mother.

"Hi, Sophie," he said, imitating her tone, doing his best to look as unimposing as possible.

"I think she likes you," Kate told him when she burrowed into her shoulder, giving him a shy smile in return. "Come on, munchkin, let's go find Jay."

He trailed after her into the living room, where a little boy with the same copper-brown hair and blue eyes as his sister was sprawled on the rug.

"This is that show you were talking about?" he asked her when he saw that he was watching a cartoon, even though to him, it looked like any other children's show that he'd seen.

"_SpongeBob_? Yeah," she agreed with a laugh.

The little boy looked up at the sound of her voice. "Kate!"

"Hey, Jayden," she greeted him. "How would you like to go see some monkeys?"

"Now?" he cried, struggling to contain his excitement as he scrambled to his feet.

"In a little while," she assured him.

"This is my friend Jack," she explained when his gaze fell on the he strange man hanging back just inside the door. "He's gonna come with us to see the animals – is that okay?"

The little boy eyed Jack for a moment, before nodding. "Will you watch _SpongeBob_ with me?" he asked.

"Do it and you'll have a friend for life," Kate teased him.

She shifted the little girl off her hip, and for the first time, he noticed the odour coming from her diaper. "We'll be right back – I'm just gonna change her," she told him.

"Okay," he agreed with smile, envious of how relaxed she seemed chatting to the toddler as she carried her upstairs.

When he finally tore his attention away from them, the little boy was staring at him with a hopeful expression.

Remembering his request, Jack lowered himself onto the couch. "Who's that?" he asked when what looked like a yellow kitchen sponge came onto the screen.

"That's SpongeBob, silly," Jayden told him in a singsong tone, warming to the conversation. He climbed onto the cushion beside him, so close that his shoulder brushed Jack's elbow.

"And that's Gary," he explained, pointing to a pink a blue snail.

"He named his snail _Gary_?" Jack asked with an incredulous frown, laughing despite himself.

"It's a funny name. Gary," the little boy sighed when his own giggles subsided.

"You boys look like you're having fun," Kate said as she came back into the room with Sophie in one arm and two pairs of miniature sandals in the other.

As foreign as it all was to him, he _was_ enjoying himself. "Is she ready to go?" he asked her when he saw that she'd exchanged the little girl's nightgown for a striped t-shirt and jeans.

"Almost," she agreed, setting her down on the other end of the couch so that she could guide her toes into the smaller pink ones.

"Would you mind helping him with his?" she added, jerking her chin at Jayden.

"Sure." He waited for the little boy to show him what to do, buckling them up when he stuck his feet out.

"All set," he told him with a smile once they were done.

As he and Kate loaded the back of his truck up with car seats and booster seats and a stroller for Sophie, he found himself wondering if it was such a good idea to come with her; it was exactly the kind of situation that he went out of his way to avoid: one that made him want things he'd closed himself off to after his divorce.

Jayden slipped his hand through his as they crossed the busy parking lot, but to his surprise, he didn't let go once they were inside the gates, offering his thoughts on everything as they wandered between enclosures, while Kate pushed Sophie along in her stroller beside him.

When both children began to lose interest in the animals, they ate lunch in the shade of one of the picnic areas, where Jayden could play.

It was one of the most pleasant days that Jack had had in months; he found himself forgetting about his patients and the reams of paperwork waiting for him in his office at home as he listened to the little boy recount his favourite attractions.

"You ever think about having kids?" he asked Kate afterwards, as they lounged on the blanket, watching him run back and forth between the swings and the slide.

Sophie was exploring the grass a few feet away from them; once in a while, Kate reached over to pry a rock or a bug or an old coin she'd picked up from her fist to keep her from sneaking it into her mouth.

"I almost did," she confessed, rolling back onto her stomach so that they were lying side by side, dropping the bottle cap she'd just confiscated in with the rest of the trash. "I almost got married once."

"What happened?" he asked her, trying not to sound too eager, despite the fact that it was the first reference she'd made to her past since the day that he met her.

"He went off to med school. I stayed home," she explained with a slight shrug, though he sensed that there had to be more to the story than that. He still wasn't sure where exactly home was for her, except that it was somewhere in Iowa. She never seemed to want to talk about it.

"What about you?" she asked, turning the question back on him with a smirk. She caught Sophie on her next trip past them, making her squeal with delight as she tickled her belly. "D'you think one of these could persuade you out of working eighty hour weeks?"

With the right woman, he decided as he watched them, but what he said was: "I don't know. I don't really think I'm cut out to be a dad."

There was a time when he would have agreed without a second thought, but that was before he'd seen how lousy he was at juggling his career and home life.

"Why not? Kids love you," she insisted. "I've never heard Jayden talk as much as he has today..."

She trailed off when a woman stopped beside them, calling out to one of the boys on top of the fort.

"Your little girl is gorgeous," she told them, glancing over at Sophie with a smile as she waited for her son to climb down.

It dawned on him then that to anyone who didn't know them, they must look like a couple.

"She's not…" he began, determined to correct the assumption, but Kate seemed to have other ideas.

"Thank you," she said, grinning sidelong at him; for a moment, he couldn't figure out why she was playing along, until he realised that she just wanted to see him squirm. "That's really sweet – isn't it, honey?"

He wasn't sure how to answer, but he managed a weak smile for the woman's benefit.

Kate burst into peals of laughter when the woman ushered her son off in the direction of the bathrooms.

"What's so funny?" he pressed, miffed at being the butt of a joke known only to her.

"_You_. The look on your face," she explained, the corners of her mouth still twitching as she turned to face him, propping her head up on her hand.

"Like that!" she insisted a second later when he tried and failed to smooth it out into something more neutral. She nodded back towards the main part of the zoo. "More cornered than some of those animals."

He wanted to tell her that she was wrong, but the truth was, in less than a week, she'd managed to upset the comfortable rut that he'd settled into.

Her expression softened as she went on, "I'm not saying you should change your mind if that's how you feel, but you just… you don't seem happy with the way things are. And you deserve to be, Jack," she told him with a sad smile. "Claire sees it – why do you think she's trying so hard to convince you to get a life of your own…?"


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks for the reviews. Sorry this took so long. You can blame it on a number of factors: uni, computer problems and the last few episodes not being very inspiring Jate-wise (I'm _very_ inspired to write a Suliet fic on the other hand!). I think you'll all like where it's going though. On a different note, I'm pretty sure I've finally found a title that works!... ;)

* * *

Chapter 6.

Kate's words were still ringing in Jack's ears as he unlocked his door later that evening.

Maybe she was right. Maybe opening himself up to new experiences wasn't such a bad idea after all.

When he found her in the living room, Claire was sitting on the couch with his father, an open carton on the coffee table between them.

"Jack! Come see this stuff Dad brought over for the baby," she said when she saw him, beckoning him over.

"Are these…?" He trailed off when he lifted a tiny blue knitted sweater from the top of the pile, tracing the careful stitches with his thumb, and realised why it all looked so familiar. "These were mine." He knew he shouldn't care, but for some reason, it annoyed him. It was like his father had given up on him.

"Your mother was saving them for you," he agreed, "but now that…"

"You can say it, Dad – now that I'm divorced…" he insisted.

He could see that his father was taken aback by his anger. "What I was _going_ to say, Jack – if you'd just let me finish – is now that we know Claire is having a boy, I thought she might be able to make use of them."

"I don't have to take them if you don't want me to," she insisted, looking alarmed as she glanced from one to the other.

"No, it's okay," Jack agreed, dropping the sweater back inside with the rest of the clothes. It wasn't like he was going to need them any time soon. "You should have them."

Her eyes were still wary, but she smiled. "Thanks. I promise I'll look after them," she told him, closing the flaps. "Then you can have them back when I'm finished with them."

He managed a weak smile in return.

"Before I go, Jack, the hospital fundraiser is on next weekend, and I would appreciate it if you could put in an appearance," his father said, changing the subject.

He'd received the invitation weeks ago, but it was still buried amidst the files and charts piled up on his desk, where he'd almost succeeded in forgetting its existence; despite his vow to take Kate's advice and stop hiding, he could feel himself withdrawing again at hearing it mentioned.

"I would if I could, Dad, but I've got a bunch of paperwork I'm still trying to get on top of," he lied, since he doubted his father would believe that he had other plans.

"I'm only reminding you out of courtesy, Jack," he warned him, a slight note of disapproval in his tone. "As chief resident, I expect you to be there."

It was clear that he wasn't accepting any excuse. "I'll do my best," Jack agreed, a heavy feeling settling into the pit of his stomach. Last year he'd taken Sarah; going alone now would only draw unwanted attention to himself.

"That's the spirit," his father said with a satisfied smile as he got up.

"You take care of yourself, okay?" he told Claire, kissing her cheek.

"I'll see you on Monday, Jack," he added as he passed him on the way to the door.

"So how about it?" Jack asked when he was gone, sinking onto the couch beside Claire. "You wanna be my date?"

"As tempting as that sounds…"

For a moment, he almost couldn't believe his ears. "Since when did you pass up an opportunity to buy a new dress?" he insisted, gaping at her in mock astonishment. She loved going out and meeting new people; she was usually the one dragging _him_ to these kinds of things.

"Since all my dresses started looking more like muumuus," she complained with a wry smile. She twisted herself around so that she was propped against the arm. "No, I think I'm gunna have to sit this one out."

She pretended to consider this for a moment. "But you know who you _could _ask?" she said in that suggestive tone he was really beginning to hate.

He did, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease her. "Who?" he pressed, fixing her with what he figured was an interested expression.

She rolled her eyes, shooting him an exasperated look. "_Kate_," she told him when he continued to pretend that he had no idea who she was talking about, frustrated at having to spell it out for him.

"_Claire_." How many times was she going to make him have this conversation?

"What? You guys are friends, right?" she reminded him with a smirk, and he sighed when he realised then that she'd trapped him with his own words.

If he and Kate were friends like he'd said, then there was no reason why he_ shouldn't _ask her…

* * *

He made up his mind to go see her the next morning, before he chickened out.

It was Sunday, so he was pretty sure that she'd be home; from what she'd said, it was Rebecca's day with the kids.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" he asked her when she came to the door dressed in a pair of pyjama bottoms and a form-fitting tank top that left less to the imagination than he was used to. He tried not to let it distract him as he added, "Because I can come back."

"No, I was just making coffee," she told him, still stifling a yawn.

She stepped aside to let him into the apartment. "You want some?"

He was already wired enough as it was. "Actually, I was just going for a run and I thought I'd see if you wanted to come," he told her.

"Sure," she agreed. "Just give me a minute to get changed."

* * *

She took off her shoes and raced him barefoot along a deserted stretch of beach, collapsing into the sand a few seconds ahead of him.

"You're lucky to've grown up in a place like this. It's so beautiful here," she said afterwards, tucking her knees up to her chest as they sat on the boardwalk, watching the sun rise.

"It's not beautiful where you come from?" he asked, offering his water bottle to her.

Her smile faded as she accepted it. "I'll tell you all about it someday," she promised in a soft voice, letting the conversation die out as she took a swig, "but right now, I just wanna enjoy being in the moment."

Before he could revive it, she stood up, peeling her t-shirt over her head to reveal a pale green bikini top.

He hadn't even thought to bring his own bathing suit. "What're you doing?" he asked, his mouth falling open in surprise when she took off at a sprint down the beach.

"What does it look like?" she called back over her shoulder as she plunged into the waves.

"Are you coming or not?" she insisted with an impish grin when he hesitated, stroking out deeper until she was submerged up to her chin.

The sun had only just slipped up from beneath the horizon; it had to be freezing. "You're crazy," he told her, shaking his head with a grin, but he stripped off his own shirt and followed her in.

* * *

"So I have a confession to make," he told her as they walked back to the parking lot, soaked right through to their outer layers.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" she insisted, rubbing her biceps and shivering as the early morning breeze caressed her damp skin. Her long hair clung to her back, drenching her shirt.

For a moment, he wondered what she would do if he wrapped his arm around her: would she believe that it was just to help her warm up?

"I had an ulterior motive for coming to see you this morning," he admitted. It was as good a moment as any considering that he'd been trying to find a way to broach the subject ever since he knocked on her door.

He watched what looked like disappointment flicker over her features.

"It's not anything bad," he assured her, regarding her with a lopsided grin as he unlocked his truck. "At least I hope it's not."

She seemed to relax then, waiting for him to go on.

He wasn't sure why he was so nervous all of a sudden. There was no risk involved in what he was about to do: he liked her, and he was pretty sure that she liked him.

"There's this ball, next Saturday night – the hospital has one every year to raise money for new equipment," he began.

"A ball? Does that mean you actually have to dance?" she teased him, giving up on trying to keep her t-shirt dry and using it to towel off her hair instead.

The gesture afforded him another good look at her abs…

…among other things…

"Not if I can help it," he argued, glancing away, in the direction of the city. His plan was just to go, have a few drinks, shake a few hands and then leave.

"Anyway, I need a date," he finished.

"You're asking _me_?" She sounded confused and a little sceptical; he wondered if he'd been _too_ casual.

"If you're not busy," he agreed.

He hadn't realised how much he wanted her there until she looked like she was going to refuse. "I don't know, Jack – I really don't have anything to wear," she confessed, averting her eyes to the gravel at their feet to cover her flush.

Was that all? "So buy something," he insisted. "Or let me buy it for you. You'd be doing me a favour – the least I could do is help pay for your dress."

She shot him a warning glance. "_Jack_."

He should have known that she wasn't the kind of woman to accept a gift like that, even out of necessity.

He decided to try a different tactic. "It's for the children's ward, so you _have _to come," he told her as he opened the passenger's side door for her. "You never know when it could be Jayden or Sophie…"

He could see that he was getting through to her when corners of her lips turned up into a smile. "I guess I can figure something out…" she allowed. "If it's for the kids…"

"Is that a yes?" he checked.

Her face split into a grin, mirroring his own relieved one as she agreed, "That's a yes…"

* * *

Next chapter: Claire takes Kate dress shopping... ;)


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks for the reviews. I wanted to get this up before the new episode because I'm not anticipating much positive Jate! :( Jack doesn't actually make an appearance in this chapter, but it's been a while since we've heard Kate's thoughts so hopefully you'll all still enjoy it! ;)

* * *

Chapter 7.

"Jack told me he asked you to the ball," Claire said on Monday afternoon as she sat in Kate's kitchen while Kate transferred the last of the utensils into the cabinets.

It had become something of a routine: Claire must have taken to watching out for her because a few minutes after she arrived home from work, she would hear a soft knock at the door.

Today she'd decided to make life easier for both of them and leave it open for her, and Claire had wandered in right on cue.

"Yeah. He did," Kate confessed, pausing by the table so that she could examine the strange sketches and scribbles the younger girl was making on a handful of pages from a yellow legal pad. "What's that?"

"_This_," Claire repeated, "is your chart. I told you I was gunna draw it up for you."

She'd answered her questions about the timing of her birth with as much information as she could remember, but she'd never really expect her to do it.

"I'm not a Scorpio," she pointed out when she noticed the dates on one of the sheets.

"Uh huh," Claire agreed without looking up.

"_Jack_ is a Scorpio, isn't he?" she guessed as realisation dawned on her. According to Claire's notes, his birthday was on the eighth of November, five months after her own.

"I was already doing yours, so I thought it might be fun to compare them," Claire confessed, dropping her pen and giving Kate her full attention as she added, "Don't you ever wonder what it would be like? I mean, you have to admit, you and Jack have great chemistry."

It was true that she'd never experienced anything like the instant rapport that she had with Jack. She felt like she'd known him for years when in reality it couldn't have been more than a week.

"Yeah, well chemistry isn't everything," she argued, despite her blush. It didn't mean that there was room for her in his life beyond the tentative friendship that they'd formed.

"I know," Claire agreed with a troubled frown as she turned the page of one of the astrology books she'd brought over.

"What?" Kate insisted, confused by her sudden turnaround. After trying so hard to force a relationship between her and Jack, was she finally giving up?

"Nothing, it's just… according to this book, you and Jack shouldn't even get along – he's rigid, you're flighty – sorry, that's just what it says," she told Kate, cocking a defiant eyebrow at her when she scowled. "He thrives on commitment, you value your freedom…"

"I wouldn't put too much stock in that, Claire," she warned her. She'd never been a big believer in fate or destiny. There were too many things that had happened in her life that couldn't be explained by either of those ideas. "Not everyone is the same."

"You're probably right," Claire agreed, her expression relaxing into a smile. "There's no reason you and Jack can't be friends, even if you have nothing in common."

Her eyes grew so wide that Kate was afraid they were going to pop out of her skull as she consulted the book again. "Except great sex!" she shrieked, almost jumping out of her chair.

She did not just go _there_.

"Where does it say that?" Kate insisted, mortified. She was making it up to see how she would react. She had to be.

She tried to see over her shoulder, put Claire snatched the book away. ""Once they – that would be you and Jack," she read with a smirk, "hit the bedroom, however, each of them will discover the meaning of _cosmic sex_! It's intense, overpowering and downright eerie how these signs telepathically know how to please one another.""

She _did_ just go there.

Kate could feel her whole body heating up at the thought. It wasn't like she hadn't considered it before, however idly – it _had_ been a while.

She knew that she'd be lying if she said she wasn't attracted to him in that way. He was cute and sweet and surprisingly sexy with his chest bare and his short hair ruffled at the beach yesterday – what woman wouldn't be? But sex wasn't everything.

Even _great_ sex.

"Why don't we talk about something else?" she suggested, freeing the book from Claire's hands. She forced herself to close it, setting it down on the bench, out of her reach. "Like the fact that I still have no idea what I'm gonna wear to this thing."

Claire pushed herself up from the table, and for a moment, she was sure that she was going to retrieve it and restart the conversation.

She went into the bedroom instead, yanking open the door of Kate's closet. "That settles it," she said, making a face when she saw how bare it was. "You're just gunna have to buy something new."

She'd already been through this with Jack.

"The benefit will be crawling with rich, handsome, _single_ doctors – don't you wanna look fabulous?" Claire teased her with an ironic grin.

"I'm not really in the market for a relationship right now…" Kate protested. Isn't that what she'd been telling herself?

"I'm not saying you have to _marry_ any of them, but you deserve to have a little fun," Claire insisted.

Why was it always about her and Jack? From what she'd seen, Claire had few – if any – friends outside of their building and spent her days waiting for either her or Jack to come home. It couldn't be much of a life for her.

"What about you?" she pressed, turning the question back on her. Jack had told her that he invited her to the ball and she turned him down. "Don't you think you deserve to have a little fun too?"

This seemed to strike a nerve with her. She averted her eyes to her belly. "I've had my fun," she murmured, and once again, Kate caught a glimpse of the lost, scared young woman beneath her bravado.

"There's no harm in looking, right?" she said, hoping that it would cheer her up. It would be good for them both to get out of the apartment for a while.

She was relieved when Claire seemed to perk up at the prospect of a shopping trip. "I know just the place!" she agreed.

* * *

"This one," Claire said, pulling a black dress from the rack and holding it up against Kate.

"It's a little short," she complained, eyeing it with distaste. "I'm not sure it makes the right impression." She wanted to look beautiful and sophisticated, like the other women in Jack's world. Like she imagined his ex-wife to be.

Claire shifted the dress back to herself, fingering the fabric that barely covered her bump with a wistful expression. "You know, it wasn't that long ago that _I_ could've pulled off something like this."

"You're pregnant, Claire – you're not in a nursing home just yet," Kate pointed out with a laugh. There would be plenty of time for dresses like that after her son was born.

Claire pouted as she returned it to the rack. "Easy for you to say – you're still hot," she grumbled even though she was smiling.

"But you're the one who's gonna have a beautiful little baby soon," Kate reminded her. The grass was definitely always greener.

"And let me babysit. A lot," she added for good measure.

"Like I could keep you away," Claire teased her.

She picked up longer dress made from a wispy material the colour of marshmallows. "What about this one?"

"Pink's not really my colour," Kate told her, wrinkling her nose. "Maybe twenty years ago…"

"You are impossible, you know that?" Claire complained, feigning irritation as she shoved it back in with the others.

"Here," she said when the dress next to it seemed to catch her eye. "This one's perfect."

It was strapless, but not too low cut; simple yet elegant with a plain fitted bodice that tapered off at the hips into straight skirt.

Best of all, it shimmered when it caught the light, silver one moment, green the next.

"Okay, what's wrong with it this time?" Claire huffed, rolling her eyes in exasperation when she took her time offering her opinion.

Kate shook her head. "Nothing," she assured her in a soft voice. "For once I agree with you."

* * *

"Oh. My. God," Claire gushed as Kate stepped out of the little cubicle at the back of the store.

Kate did a little twirl in front of the mirror, surveying herself with a critical eye. "Does it look okay?" she checked. The last time she'd worn something like this was at her senior prom.

"Better than okay, Kate – that dress was made for you!" Claire enthused. "In fact, I command you to walk up to that register and buy it right now."

Kate smoothed the silky fabric over her hips as she studied her reflection. It was beautiful; it made _her _feel beautiful, like a princess.

She bit her lip. "I should probably think about it. It's almost a week's wage." She never spent that much money on clothes. She wasn't that kind of girl.

"For _you_," Claire agreed. She rummaged around in her purse, producing a credit card with a triumphant grin.

As she waved it in front of her, Kate saw Jack's name embossed on it in black lettering. "Where did you get that?" she asked her with what she was sure must be an incredulous expression.

"Where do you think?" Claire returned with a coy smile.

"Does he even know that you have it?" Kate insisted.

"Maybe."

She wondered if she should tell him.

"_He_ never uses it," Claire protested when Kate was torn between amusement and guilt. What happened when he got the bill? He seemed pretty generous with his money: would he even care? "He gave it to me when he asked me to pick up his dry cleaning a month ago."

"I am not putting a dress on Jack's gold card!" Kate told her when she continued to watch her with an expectant look, horrified by the idea. It was bad enough that he'd already offered to pay for it.

"Does that mean you're not getting it?" Claire asked, her face falling as she slid it back into her wallet, but Kate could tell by her tone that what she really wanted to know was if she was going to let not having a dress stop her from going.

She snuck another peek at herself in the mirror. It really was perfect. She sighed. "What else am I gonna wear..?"

* * *

I have no idea when Jack's birthday is so I decided to make him a Scorpio since it fits his character so well: intense, loyal, stubborn, determined, vengeful, jealous and possessive, among other traits.

Next chapter: The ball... ;)


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks for the reviews. It's not exactly the weekend anymore, but hopefully you'll forgive me after reading this chapter. For some reason I got carried away with all the ball stuff and could have kept going, so I've decided to spoil you with a second more relaxed one, coming soon. Thanks to Lizi for giving me the idea about Kate's dress (which I hope she doesn't mind me stealing!) ;)

* * *

Chapter 8.

"I think you made him really happy," Claire said as she combed the tangles out of Kate's hair.

As Kate had come to expect, she'd insisted on helping her get ready, which was how she'd ended up perched on a chair in the middle of Jack's bathroom while Claire attacked her head with all manner of torturous implements.

"Who?" she pressed, confused as always by Claire's non-linear segues. She winced as a sudden heat caught her by surprise.

"Jack, silly," Claire teased her as she dragged a straightener though her long curls. "When you agreed to go to this ball with him."

"Oh." Kate didn't really know what else to say.

"You probably don't see it, but he's been different since you guys started hanging out," Claire continued, her eyes finding Kate's in the glass of the medicine cabinet over the sink, forgetting, for a moment, to move the straightener again. "He smiles more, he's actually home in time for dinner…"

Kate wrinkled her nose at the feint odour of singed hair. She was beginning to feel a little like an oversized Barbie doll. "You're saying those things are because of _me_?" she insisted. It was true that they'd been spending a lot of time together, but she wasn't really getting that vibe from him. Then again, she tended to view most male companions as friends until someone hit her over the head with the truth about their feelings for her.

Claire laughed. "Don't look so surprised."

She set the straightener back on the sink and turned Kate's head towards the mirror so that she could admire her reflection as well. "You're a beautiful woman, Kate – why wouldn't he want you?"

Kate almost didn't recognise herself with the kind of perfect hair and glossy make up that belonged in the pages of a magazine.

She smiled, allowing the first stirrings of excitement to settle into the pit of her stomach despite her vow to treat the evening with the same casual indifference as Jack. "Thanks for doing this, Claire. I wouldn't know the first thing about what goes with a dress like this." It was nice, almost like having a sister.

"Don't forget, I wanna know everything that happens tonight. _Everything_," Claire repeated, leaning over her, lowering her voice with a suggestive smirk.

Kate blushed when she realised that she was alluding to the book. What did she think was going to happen? "I'll try to remember that," she agreed.

Claire looked her over one more time, clapping her hands and letting out a juvenile squeal before composing herself.

She reminded her of her mother on prom night, Kate thought, shoving aside the pang of sadness that always came when she allowed herself to miss her.

The teenaged equivalent, at least, she noted with a wry smile.

"Well, we'd better not keep him waiting," Claire said, sticking out a hand to pull her up.

* * *

I'm only doing this for my father – so he'll get off my case, Jack reminded himself as he checked his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes.

He wondered what was taking them so long. As long as Kate was presentable, he didn't care _what_ she wore…

…At least that was what he told himself when she stumbled out of his bathroom looking like the goddess that he would never allow himself to think of her as.

Her usually wild hair hung in waves over her back and shoulders, left bare by her dress, which somehow managed to be the exact shade of her stormy grey-green eyes.

"What d'you think? Doesn't she look amazing?" Claire prompted, stretching the last three syllables out into about six when he couldn't find the words to tell her any of this.

"Beautiful," was all he could get out, but it seemed to make her happy as her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink than the rouge she was wearing.

"You clean up pretty well yourself," she told him, casting an appraising glance over his tux.

He offered his elbow to her. "Shall we?"

She smiled as she stepped up to accept it, hooking her arm through his.

She smelt nice too, he decided, as the scent of her perfume reached his nostrils, like some flower that he couldn't identify. It was one of the things that he missed most about Sarah: that distinctly feminine smell.

"Hold on, I wanna get a picture of you two first," Claire called after them before they could make their escape, fumbling in the drawer for her camera.

"No, Claire…" Kate protested with an exasperated sigh when she began lining up the shot.

She had them standing so close that he couldn't resist leaning in to whisper against her ear, "It'll all be over faster if we just do what she says."

He only meant to make her smile, but he was pleased when she bursts into peels of laughter, which seemed to mystify Claire. It was quickly becoming his favourite sound in the world; he could listen to it all day and never get tired of it.

They were still laughing when the lift let them out in the foyer.

"I'm starting to see what you meant about her being enthusiastic," Kate said as they made their way out to his truck.

Seeing it parked there between two shiny new sedans, he wished that he'd had the foresight to rent something nicer, just for the evening. But then it wasn't a date. At least, he hadn't intended it to be.

She stopped halfway across the parking lot, wringing her hands in what he'd come to recognise as a nervous gesture. "I have something to tell you," she confessed.

He remembered then that they were still talking about Claire. "What'd she do _this_ time?" he asked, trying and failing to suppress his grin.

She chewed her lip, bracing herself. "The other day at the store…" Here she cringed "…she kind of talked me into borrowing your card to buy this dress."

He chuckled, more amused than he knew he should be; he felt like he should act like the grown up and try to reign in Claire's behaviour, before it got any more out of control, but it was hard when he knew that she meant well. "Is that all?"

"I never should have listened to her. I'm sorry," Kate rushed on. "I want you to know that I'm going to pay you back – just as soon as I get caught up on my rent."

"Don't even think about it," he told her. It was actually a relief since the ball was his idea in the first place.

"Jack, are you sure?" she insisted. "Because if you want, I can give you half of it now—"

"It looks good on you," he interrupted her, his smile turning serious.

He watched her tongue dart out to lick her lips, a question in her eyes, as though she wanted to say something, but wasn't sure where to begin.

"So the plan is to go in there, listen to a couple of speeches and get out before my any of my mom's friends see us," he told her to break the silence as he started walking again.

It wasn't until he realised that she wasn't following that it occurred to him that somehow he'd managed to upset her. He closed the passenger side door, which he'd already opened for her. "What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"No, Kate, what is it?" he insisted, thoroughly bewildered now. Did she really expect him to guess?

"I just don't understand why you invited me if we're not even staying," she complained after a moment.

"You wanna stay, is that it?" he supplied. If it was really that important to her, he would find a way to deal with the endless questions about Sarah...

"No, you know what?" she agreed. "Dancing isn't really my thing anyway, so let's just try to make this as painless as possible."

She accepted his help climbing into the cabin, but was silent for the rest of the drive to the hotel, staring straight ahead, ignoring him.

"Here we are," he announced, killing the engine when he found a few doors down.

She softened as she took in the fairy lights lining the street, watching the other guests arrive in their Ferraris and Aston Martins. "All of a sudden, I feel underdressed," she quipped with a wary smile.

"You look fine," he assured her as he moved around to her side, making sure that she didn't trip on her dress on the way down.

He held his hand out to her once she'd regained her equilibrium. "Come on."

He watched her expression change, lighting up as he led her through to the ballroom.

"What do I do?" she whispered, still clinging to him, once they were inside.

He bit back a smile at how nervous she seemed. She was charming and sweet; there was no reason for anyone there not to like her.

"Just be yourself," he told her, glad that Claire had suggested bringing her. He was enjoying her childlike wonder. It made him feel less like being cynical.

"Do all of these people work at the hospital?"

"Some of them. Some are benefactors." He lowered his tone so that only she could hear. "Most are just here for the booze."

"I know that's what _I'm_ here for," she announced with a wicked grin.

"Well, then, can I get you a drink?"

She glanced around to see what was on offer. "You can get me some champagne," she agreed when she spotted a group of women sipping out of tall flute glasses.

"I'll be right back," he told her, dropping her hand.

He went over to the bar to order their drinks, coming face to face with his father when he turned to make sure that she was still where he left her.

"Dad," he greeted him with an awkward embrace. He wasn't sure why he was so surprised to see him when he was the reason that he'd dragged himself there.

"Glad you could make it, son," his father said as he released him.

"This is my son, Jack," he told an elderly socialite, squeezing Jack's shoulder. "He's one of our best young surgeons here at St. Sebastian's."

On any other night, Jack might have been flattered; he knew he was right to be suspicious when his father continued, "Jack, this is Mrs. Clarke – she's kindly donating half a million dollars to the hospital."

He hated this part of the job, but he mustered a polite smile for her benefit. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Clarke."

He was relieved when the bartender returned with his and Kate's drinks. "Listen, I should get back to my date…"

"Which one is she?" Mrs. Clarke asked, scanning the faces of the women milling around the ballroom.

"That's her there, in the green," he told her, pointing Kate out to her.

He waved to her and she waved back.

"Pretty girl," Mrs. Clarke said with an approving nod. "What's her name?"

He shot an uncomfortable glance in his father's direction. "Kate."

"You didn't tell me you were seeing someone, Jack," his father said on cue, an unmistakable note of hurt in his tone.

Mrs. Clarke didn't seem to notice.

"Well, we only _just_ started dating," Jack lied, reluctant to go into the whole story with her there. He didn't want to put Kate through the torture of meeting him when they weren't even really together.

"In that case, I won't ask you to introduce us," his father said, as if sensing his thoughts, "but make sure you bring her over for dinner soon, okay? Your mother will be thrilled." He clapped him on the back as he moved off to finish making the rounds.

Jack picked up the drinks and started back towards Kate, but when he got closer, he saw that she was no longer alone. She was talking to one of the other surgeons, a man old enough to be her father – old enough to be _his_ father – or rather, he was talking to her while her eyes darted around, searching the crowd for him.

"Jack!" she cried when she saw him, shooting him a pleading look that seemed to say, "Help me!"

"Dr. Gorman," he greeted him with a humourless smile, holding one of the glasses out to her. "Your champagne."

He wasn't sure what else to do, so he placed his free hand on her waist. "I see you've met Kate."

When the older man glanced from her to Jack and back again, looking uncertain, she took Jack's drink and placed it on the table with hers; then, without warning, she cupped his face in her palms and pulled him down to her, kissing him with more passion than was needed to make her point.

He almost forgot where they were until Dr. Gorman muttered a flustered apology and left to go try his luck with someone else.

"Wow," was all he could say when she released him.

He saw that her lipstick was smudged. "Are you sure that was necessary?" he asked her, wiping his own mouth.

"Not that I'm, you know, complaining. It was a great kiss," he assured her, no longer in control of his words. Did he really just say that? He felt drunk, even though he'd barely touched his own champagne.

"He got the message, didn't?" she pointed out with a breathless grin. "No thanks to _you_…"

* * *

So that was _kind of_ a first kiss! ;)

Next chapter: Jack and Kate ditch the ball in favour of something more casual... ;)


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks for the reviews. I think this is my favourite chapter so far... ;)

* * *

Chapter 9.

"I think it's time you conquered your fear," Kate announced, setting her drink down.

Jack wasn't sure he liked where this was headed. "What fear?" he asked her, trying to look more clueless than he was. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You say you haven't danced since you got married?" she reminded him, her eyebrow arching amusement. "How long ago was that, Jack?"

So he was right. "I'm not _afraid_ of dancing, Kate," he scoffed. It just wasn't something that he enjoyed.

She stood up from her chair, holding her hand out to him. "So prove it," she said, calling his bluff.

She wasn't really going to try to force him, was she? "Okay, maybe I am a little _uncomfortable_," he agreed, "now would you please sit down?"

He glanced around at the neighbouring tables, lowering his voice when he noticed several pairs of eyes on them. "People are staring."

"Which is exactly why you should just quit being such a baby about it and get up," she insisted.

With a sigh, he accepted the hand that she offered.

"Oh, we're doing this," she assured him, unmoved by his pathetic look as he let her pull him to his feet.

"We are, are we?" he challenged her, but the resistance he put up was half-hearted at best as he allowed her to drag him out into the middle of the dance floor.

"Yes, we are," she affirmed in a stubborn tone to match his own. She flashed him a playful grin as she added, "Isn't that the point of going to a ball?"

The way she placed his palm on her waist before taking the other in hers made him feel like he was in junior high again.

"See? This isn't so bad, is it?" she prompted as began putting them through the paces, rocking them back and forth to the music.

He hadn't been this close to a woman since Sarah left him; he shifted his hand higher, pulling her against his chest, revelling in the warmth of her back under his fingers, the feel of her body as it moulded to his.

"No, it's not," he agreed, no longer sure why he'd put up such a fight in the first place.

A soft sigh of contentment escaped her lips as she adjusted to their new position.

Closing his eyes, letting the floral scent of her perfume envelop him, he could almost forget that this was supposed to be a business arrangement.

The corners of his mouth twitched when a familiar sound brought him out of his reverie. "Was that your stomach?" he teased her.

Her head dropped forward onto his shoulder as she buried her face there in embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she agreed with an apologetic laugh, her voice muffled by his jacket, "it's just that this dress is so _tight_…"

He took his arm back from her to check his watch. It was a little after ten. "What d'you say we get out of here, go get something to eat?" he suggested.

"Can we?" she agreed, looking so relieved that he chuckled.

He kept the hold that he had on her hand as he led her down the steps, back onto the street outside, enjoying the way that it fit inside his.

"Where to?" he asked her once they were buckled inside his truck. "There's a great Italian place just around the corner – since we're already dressed, I could probably bribe them into giving us a table."

He was used to taking the initiative, but then she wasn't like any of the other women that he'd been out with.

"I have a better idea," she told him.

He was surprised when she directed him to an all night diner about a block from their building; even more surprised by how much better the view was than at the restaurant he was planning on taking her to.

"You know, I think I was in college before I ever ate in one of these places," he confessed, taking a sip of his coffee as they waited for their food to be brought out.

She looked at him as though he'd just told her that he'd never been to Disneyland, which in truth, was another experience his parents hadn't seen the value of providing him with.

"You're kidding? I grew up in them. My mom was a waitress, so I'd come in and help her after school," she explained, trailing off as the waitress put a plate down in front of her.

It was the first scrap of information she'd ever volunteered about her childhood, aside from the fact that she'd grown up somewhere in Iowa; he wondered if her use of the past tense meant that her mother had retired from the job now… or worse, was dead.

He decided to push his luck, to see what else she would tell him, waiting until they were alone again to ask, "What about your dad? What does he do?"

She broke eye contact with him, concentrating on spreading her napkin over her lap; he could tell that she intended the gesture to appear natural, but he was familiar enough with her mannerisms by now to recognise when she was upset.

"It's really not that interesting," she insisted, shrugging one shoulder in a way that was altogether too casual.

She popped a fry into her mouth and chewed; when she spoke again, it was the turn the conversation back on him. "Not as interesting as yours being the chief of surgery at your hospital," she teased him, licking the grease from her fingers. She flashed him a sympathetic smile. "That must be rough."

He was disappointed that she wouldn't confide in him about whatever was bothering her, but he knew better than to pry when she wasn't ready to talk about it.

"Yeah," he agreed, lifting the top of his burger to squirt mustard onto it. "Although I can't really blame him for that – I was the one who just wanted him to see me."

She didn't say anything, reaching across the table for his hand and squeezing it instead.

The touch itself was fleeting, but he couldn't stop thinking about it as he watched her pick up her own burger. It was a mystery to him, how well she seemed to understand him without either of them having to say a word; more amazing still how she could comfort him just by being there with him.

"What?" she asked, setting the remainder down again when she caught him staring at her. She wiped her chin on the back of her palm. "Do I have ketchup on my face?"

"No, you're perfect," he assured her. "I mean, you look fine."

She flushed as she reached for her napkin, and he wondered if he'd somehow said the wrong thing, until her expression relaxed into a grin.

Taking that as encouragement, he cleared his throat as she finished eating. "You wanna go for a walk? I don't really feel like going home yet."

She nodded. "I'd like that," she agreed.

They left his truck parked outside the diner and started along the sidewalk, into the heart of the city.

He stopped for her at the end of the block while she unbuckled the silver spiked heeled sandals that she'd borrowed from Claire, dangling them from her fingers by the straps.

The moon had sunk almost to the horizon by the time they decided to head back, turning the night air cool.

"Here," he said, shrugging out of his jacket when he glanced over at her and saw that she was shivering through her flimsy fabric of her wrap.

"Thanks," she told him with a grateful smile as he draped it around her shoulders, pulling it closed with her free hand.

He was stunned to see that it was almost 4am by the time he switched off the ignition in front of their building. When was the last time that he'd stayed out all night, except for when he was on call?

"Thanks for coming with me tonight," he said when they reached her door. He'd thought that taking her would make the evening bearable, but it was so much better than anything he could have imagined.

"Thank you for inviting me," she returned.

They stared at each other for a long moment without speaking, waiting for someone to make the first move.

He could still remember how she tasted, how soft her lips were, how good it felt; without stopping to think about what he was doing, he leant in and pressed a light kiss against them.

She smiled as he pulled back. "Night, Jack," she said as she turned and let herself into her apartment.

He was still grinning to himself as he unlocked his own door.

"I thought the ball finished at midnight?" a sleepy voice asked; halting at the entrance to the living room, he saw Claire wrapped in a comforter, blinking at him from the couch.

Trust her to wait up for him.

"It did," he agreed, refusing to let her, at times overwhelming, nosiness bother him like it would on an ordinary day. "We went for a walk afterwards."

"For _four_ hours?" she pressed with a dubious frown.

"We lost track of time."

He could see that she didn't believe him.

"You kissed her," she said, squinting at him; his smile grew as he touched his fingers to his lips, wondering if Kate's lipstick had rubbed off on them.

There was no other way she could know…

"You did, didn't you?" she insisted, scrambling into a sitting position, wide awake now. "Didn't you, Jack?"

He could have told her the truth, but where would be the fun in that?

"Goodnight, Claire," he said, heading past her to his bedroom, even though it would be a long time before he was able to fall asleep.

* * *

Next chapter: Kate returns Jack's jacket... and coming soon: Aaron! ;)


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks for the reviews. ;)

* * *

Chapter 10.

"So are you ever gonna tell me what happened between you and Kate?" Claire asked Jack later that morning when he dragged himself out of bed and into the kitchen for coffee.

He had a vague recollection of drifting off some time after sunrise, staying out until almost midday.

He forced a laugh for her benefit. "What makes you think something happened, Claire?" he insisted, leaning against the island as he sipped his coffee.

She cocked her head to once side, giving him a Look. "Jack..."

"We already did this, Claire," he reminded her, stalling for time. It was really none of her business. "I—" He stopped, relaxing when a familiar chime rang through the apartment.

Saved by the doorbell.

"I'll get it." He pushed himself upright, almost splashing the hot liquid onto himself in his haste as he slammed his mug down on the counter and made a beeline for the door.

He smiled when he glanced through the peephole and saw Kate waiting on the other side. She looked as tired as he felt.

Up close, he could still see faint traces of make up around her eyes. "Hey."

"Morning."

She held up her arm, showing him his tuxedo jacket, draped over it. "I came to give this back to you. I figured you might… need it," she finished with an awkward laugh. It was a transparent excuse and they both knew it.

He grinned, pleased. It saved him having to find a reason to visit her. "Thanks."

His fingers brushed her elbow as he took it back from her, sending a thrill of electricity up his spine, and all of a sudden, all he could think about was finding a way to touch her again.

He was still trying to think of something to say when Claire poked her head out of the door that separated them from the kitchen. "Is that Kate?" she asked.

Kate was the first to break eye contact, shifting her focus to her. "Hi, Claire," she greeted her. "I have these for you." She waved the sandals that she'd borrowed. "Thanks again for lending them to me."

"I thought I heard your voice," Claire told her, coming towards them. "How was the ball?"

She accepted the shoes, shooting Jack another Look, her lips pursed in disapproval as she added, "I haven't been able to get a word out of Jack. Anyone would think it was a state secret the way he's carrying on."

At this, Kate's gaze strayed back to his; he watched the corners of her mouth lift as she tried not to laugh. "It was... nice," she told her.

Claire rolled her eyes. "You too, huh?" she complained. "Honestly, you pair... I'm almost nine months pregnant – the highlight of my day yesterday was actually managing to get out of bed without calling for help – is it too much to ask for a _few_ details?"

It wouldn't be if it were really details about the ball that she was after.

He set his jacket down on the hall table, next to a pile of mail that he was yet to sort through. "You wanna go grab a cup of coffee or something?" he asked Kate, picking up his keys.

She grinned. "Are you buying?" she teased him.

"If I say yes, does that mean you'll come?" he teased her back, only half kidding.

She pretended to consider this. "Okay," she agreed.

Claire rolled her eyes again, this time at their flirtatiousness. "Would you guys just get a room already?"

She flashed him a sly grin. "Or is that what you did last night?"

He opted to feign deafness rather than take the bait, but while he was dying to see her reaction to this suggestion, he was careful to avoid Kate's eyes as he ushered her into the hall. "Come on."

To Claire, he added, "We're going out – _don't wait up_," before closing the door on her incredulous expression.

* * *

"So she's been harassing you all morning, huh?" Kate asked once they were seated in the same booth at the same diner as the night before.

He laughed. "Yeah," he agreed.

"She wanted to know if I…" He trailed off, self-conscious as he realised what he was about to say. They hadn't talked about the kiss – kiss_es_. He still wasn't sure what any of it meant.

"If you what?" she pressed with a grin, oblivious to his discomfort.

He debated making something up to escape the conversation, but it was too late for that now. "If _we_ kissed," he finished, cringing as the smile slid from her lips.

"What did you say?" she asked in a soft voice, all traces of amusement gone from her tone. She wanted to know what it meant too.

"I didn't," he confessed.

"A gentleman never kisses and tells," she teased him, flashing him another awkward smile.

She stared down into her mug. "Jack? Why did you really ask me to the ball?" she asked after a moment.

He'd known that it was coming as soon as he mentioned the kiss, but that didn't stop the question from rattling him. It was something that he'd tried not to think too much about, afraid to put a label on his burgeoning feelings for her.

What did she expect him to say? More importantly, what she did _want_ him to say?

"I told you – I needed a date," he reminded her, settling for the safest answer, even he knew it was a cop out.

He could tell by her expression that it was the wrong one.

She tore open another sachet of sugar, tipping it into her coffee, trying to sound casual as she said, "So that goodnight kiss… that was just you being polite?" She did her best to act like she was kidding, but he could hear the edge of hurt in her voice. "All part of the service?"

Of course _that_ was what she was hinting at. "Kate—" he began but she cut him off.

"It's okay if you're not ready for another relationship, Jack," she insisted, though he wondered if she really believed this, "but I don't think I can handle being somebody's charity case. I know I said we should humour Claire…"

"That's definitely not what this was about," he assured her. His sister might have introduced them, but it had stopped being about her the first time she left them alone to get better acquainted.

She nodded to show that she'd heard, but she didn't look convinced.

Was she really going to make him say it? "I like you, Kate," he confessed, even though he wasn't sure that 'like' was a strong enough word for it. When he wasn't with her, he was thinking about her. "You're beautiful, smart…" He smiled as he remembered how much he'd enjoyed her company the night before, "fun…"

She was amazing – everything that he could ask for – but he didn't know if he could put himself out there again, and risk losing her as a friend. He'd come to rely on her more than he should.

The time that he spent with her helped to fill the void that his divorce had left him with, especially now that Claire's due date was approaching. She couldn't take care of him forever. Eventually she would want to move out and get a place of her own.

And when that day came, he didn't know what he would do if things went back to the way they were before.

"Can that just be enough for now?"

She ducked her head to hide the furious blush that had crept cheeks, and he knew that he'd finally gotten something right. "I like you too," she agreed.

* * *

Next chapter: Jack gets called away to a conference and asks Kate to do him another favour... ;)


	11. Chapter 11

Thanks for the reviews. I'm not sure the favour is what some of you had in mind but I hope you'll all enjoy this chapter anyway! ;)

* * *

Chapter 11.

What the…? Kate thought to herself when she turned on the faucet to fill the canister for the coffee maker and no more than a few drops trickled out.

She opened the cabinet to examine the pipes and a stream of water sprayed out, making her wince as it hit her in the face, another spilling over onto the tiles at her feet.

She found the leak and pressed her palm against it to stem the flow while she felt around the bench for the phone, dialling the number for her super.

It rang out.

She cursed under her breath as she hung up and tried again.

Still no answer.

"Damnit!" Slamming the phone down, she slumped back against the refrigerator, watching the pool inch towards her.

What should she do? She had no idea how to repair a broken pipe. She wasn't even sure who else to call this early in the morning.

Then it hit her.

Jack.

He would know what to do. At least she hoped that he would. That was if he hadn't left for the hospital already.

She sprinted out into the hall without bothering to close her door, pounding on his with the side of her fist.

It wasn't until he was standing in front of her, eyeing her with an expression that was half bemusement, half alarm, that she realised she was still in her pyjamas.

"Kate? Is everything okay?"

She glanced down at herself, trying to see what he saw. Her clothes were damp and her feet were bare, the bottoms of her grey flannel pants discoloured from where she'd dragged them along through the murky pool; she couldn't imagine what he must think. "That depends," she told him, forcing a smile to assure him that it was nothing life threatening.

At least not to anything but her carpet.

And her deposit.

"On what?"

"On how much you know about plumbing," she told him with a hopeful look.

"Probably about as much as you," he insisted but he rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt and followed her back to her own apartment.

"What happened?" he asked when he saw all of the water. A few more feet and it would be lapping at the legs of her kitchen table.

"I don't know," she confessed. "I just turned on the tap and…"

He hitched up the ankles of the dark suit pants he was wearing and stepped into the puddle, sitting back on his heels in front of the pipe to feel along the joints.

"Do you know where your shut off valve is?" he asked her after a few seconds, turning back to look at her. "I don't have the right tools to fix this, so I think it's better if we just turn if off until we can get someone out to look at it."

She shook her head. It was probably something that she should have paid more attention to when she came there with the property agent.

He used the edge of the counter to pull himself back up and wandered out of the kitchen without saying another word, leading her down the narrow hall, into the bathroom.

She couldn't hide how impressed she was when he managed to locate it himself, under the sink. "How did you…?" she insisted. He'd never even been in there before.

He grinned. "Lucky guess. Ours is in the same place," he explained.

He gave it an experimental tug, but it refused to budge. "I'm gonna need a wrench," he told her. "You wouldn't happen to have one of those, would you?"

She flashed him an apologetic smile. "Sorry – I must've left it in my other toolbox," she quipped. She wished then that she'd bothered to invest in a set of tools, but it had never really been high on her list of priorities.

"I think we have one somewhere," he assured her. "I'll be right back."

He left her there, perched on the edge of the bathtub, while he went home, reappearing in the doorway a moment later.

It was a one person job, so she stayed where she was, out of his way, watching as he yanked his tie over his head and crouched in front of the valve, his biceps straining with the effort of twisting it.

He was sweating as he dropped the wrench to the floor, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "What?" he asked in breathless voice when he caught her staring at him.

She responded with an exaggerated shrug, trying to look nonchalant. The last thing she wanted was for him to know that she'd been checking him out while he was working. "I just never took you for such a handyman." He wasn't what she would consider _overly_ macho; sometimes it was easy to forget how sexy he really was.

He laughed. "I'm not," he insisted, wiping his palms on the thighs of his pants as he got up. "You'll need to call a plumber to handle the rest."

They were both drenched by the time he finished helping her spread towels over the kitchen floor to soak up the excess moisture; she was mortified when she saw that the thin white cotton of her tank top had become almost transparent, hugging her ribs to cover herself, relieved when he pretended not to notice.

"Looks like the water's gonna be off for a while, but you can use our bathroom if you wanna get cleaned up," he offered, not quite looking at her.

"Thanks, Jack. For everything," she told him with a grateful smile, the corners of her lips twitching as she took in his own dishevelled state.

"You're welcome," he agreed, his dark eyes sincere as they lingered on hers.

He waited for her while she fetched some dry clothes, branching off into his own bedroom when she went to take a shower.

She emerged from the bathroom to find him bent over the island in the kitchen, dressed in a fresh suit, skimming the sports section while he finished his coffee.

"Where's Claire?" she asked him, noting for the first time how quiet it was. It was rare for them to be alone in his apartment like this, without her to act as a buffer.

"Still asleep, I think. I haven't seen her this morning," he explained.

He closed the newspaper and straightened, clearing his throat as he leant his back against the bench. "While we're here, I have to ask you for another favour," he confessed.

"Okay," she agreed, apprehensive as she waited for him to fill her in on what it was.

"Remember when we met, how I asked you to look in on Claire?" he began.

"And I have," she insisted. "She's been at my place every afternoon this week."

He let out a low chuckle. "I know, and you have no idea how much I appreciate it, but that's not what I was gonna say."

"What _were_ you gonna say?" she prompted him to hide her embarrassment.

"I'm supposed to deliver a paper in DC tomorrow and I was hoping you'd stay with her until I get back. Normally I wouldn't ask, but with her due in less than a month…"

She couldn't help but feel a stab of disappointment at hearing that she wasn't going to see him again for a while. "How long will you be gone?"

"Just until Friday. I'll try to get away as soon as I can."

That was only three days. She could live without him for three days. "Sure," she agreed. "She can have my room and I'll just make a bed up on the couch."

"Actually, I was thinking you might be more comfortable here since there's more space," he told her.

His place only had three bedrooms and one of them was a nursery. "Where exactly would I be sleeping?" she checked.

He reached up to scratch the back of his head, looking awkward as he considered this. "Well, since I won't be here…" He trailed off with a sheepish smile.

He wanted her to sleep in his room, in _his_ bed, surrounded by him. Just the thought of it caused her cheeks to heat up. "Oh," was all she could manage to get out.

"If it's gonna make you uncomfortable," he rushed on, picking up on her hesitance, "I'm sure Claire won't mind mov—"

"No," she insisted, cutting him off with a shake of her head. He was right: his way made more sense. It didn't have to be weird; they were just being practical.

"Who knows how long it's gonna take to get someone out to fix the plumbing?" she agreed. "And Claire should be in her own bed…"

* * *

Nothing like some DYI to ramp up the sexual tension! ;D

Next chapter: Jack says goodbye to Kate and Claire, some female bonding and another emergency... ;)


	12. Chapter 12

Thanks for the reviews. Hopefully this chapter lives up to your expectations... ;)

* * *

Chapter 12.

"This is it," Jack told Kate, setting her bag down on the end of the double bed. Unlike the communal areas, his room was Spartan, devoid of any of the photographs or other personal knickknacks that Claire had scattered around the place.

"I changed the sheets for you and there's a clean towel in the bathroom for when you wanna take a shower," he continued. "Other than that, Claire can show you where everything else is... so just make yourself at home."

He was going out of his way to make her feel welcome. "I will," she assured him even though she still wasn't sure that she would ever be able to relax his territory.

All of a sudden, she just wanted to get out of there but he touched her arm to stop her. "Thanks again for doing this."

She swallowed. "That's what friends are for, right?" she agreed with a tight smile, trailing after him to the foyer where Claire was waiting to see him off.

"Take care of yourself, okay?" he said, stepping forward to embrace her.

She gave him a hard squeeze. "You too, big brother."

When it was their turn to say goodbye, he hovered in front of Kate, not quite touching her; for a moment, she wondered if he was going to kiss her again, but he settled on pulling her into an awkward hug.

"I have my cell if you need anything," he told her as he let go.

She nodded, reaching up on impulse to straighten his tie. "Good luck."

He smiled. "See you on Friday."

It couldn't come soon enough.

She dropped her hands back to her sides as he moved away from her to gather his luggage.

"This is gonna be great!" Claire said, turning to her with a grin that made her shudder a little. "We're gunna have so much fun!"

* * *

It felt strange, going straight to Jack's apartment after work. She let herself in with the key that he'd given her that morning, poking her head first into the living room, then into the kitchen in search of his sister. "Claire?"

At the sound of her name, the younger girl appeared in hall the leading to the bedrooms. "You're home!" she greeted her. "You know, I was so bored today I actually refolded everything in the nursery."

Kate chuckled at how cheerful she seemed in spite of her situation. "Well I can't do much about that now," she told her, "but what d'you wanna do tonight?"

Normally Jack would make time to eat dinner with them, but since it was just going to be the two of them, they decided on taking a walk to the end of the block to pick up a pizza and a DVD.

Kate was dismayed when all of Claire's suggestions were for the latest chick flicks. She wasn't in the mood for anything romantic: what she really needed was something to help her keep her mind off of Jack.

It had only been a few hours, and already she found herself missing him; Claire was fun, but there was just something about him that made him easy to be with. He never asked for much, or pushed her the way his sister did. Instead, he seemed content to gain her trust little by little by allowing her open up to him in her own time. It made her feel safe.

They were just laying everything out on the coffee table when the phone trilled.

Despite Jack's insistence that she make herself at home, Kate still didn't feel comfortable enough to answer it herself so she waited for Claire to pick it up.

"Hi! Not much, just watching a movie…" Kate heard her say; she carried out an animated conversation with the person on the other end before holding the receiver out to Kate.

"It's Jack," she explained with a smirk when Kate blinked at her in confusion. She raised her eyebrows at her, motioning for her to take it. "He wants to talk to you."

She was still surprised but also, if she was honest with herself, pleased as she accepted it, turning away from Claire to hide her blush. "Hello?" she said, trying not to sound too eager in case there was just something that he'd forgotten to tell her.

"Hey."

She couldn't help but smile at hearing his voice. He didn't seem to be in any hurry to get off the phone. She could picture him sitting alone in his hotel room. "How'd it go?" she asked him, shifting until she found a more comfortable position.

Like she'd come to expect, Claire stayed in the room, fussing with the plates as she pretended not to be listening.

"No one fell asleep or booed me off the podium, so all in all, I'd say pretty well," he joked; she laughed, some of the heaviness lifted from her heart. If she couldn't actually see him, then this had to be the next best thing.

"Claire behaving herself?" he teased her.

Almost as if she sensed that they were talking about her, Claire hazarded a quick glance at her from beneath her lashes.

"As much as she can," Kate answered with a smug grin.

"She's right there, isn't she?" he insisted when she failed to say any more on the subject. It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yep," she agreed, waving her off when she shot her a questioning look. It served her right for eavesdropping. "How's Washington?"

"I'd rather be in L.A.," he confessed, and she felt her smile grow.

He wasn't the only one who wished that he wasn't so far away. "I'm glad you called," she told him.

"Me too," he agreed.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, reluctant to sever the connection.

"You'd better put Claire back on," he said finally.

"I guess I'll see you on Friday," she agreed, echoing his parting words to her. It was only two more days.

She handed the phone back to Claire, and she chatted to him for a while longer then hung up the phone.

"So... You never finished telling me about the ball," she reminded Kate as she replaced it in the cradle.

Kate sighed. She should have known that she was just biding her time before bringing it up again. "You're never gonna let this go, are you?" she complained.

Claire responded with a vehement shake of her head. "Now spill." As if to assure her that she wasn't going to take no for an answer this time, she clicked off the TV. "There. Now you have no excuse."

"Fine. We kissed. Twice," Kate told her with another, exasperated, sigh, "but the first one doesn't count - it was only to get this guy to stop hitting on me."

"I knew it!" Claire cried, her blue eyes sparkling, looking like she was about to jump out of her seat. "This is so exciting!"

She leant forward, a dreamy look on her face as she continued to probe for details. "Who kissed who? Where were you? What was it like? Was it romantic? Did you feel a spark?"

Oh yeah. In fact, her heart sped up every time she allowed her thoughts to drift back to it.

"Does this mean you guys are together now?" Claire pressed without stopping for breath. Did she ever stop?  
"I don't know," Kate admitted, scooping one of the cushions up and hugging it to her chest as though it could protect her from the onslaught.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

She didn't realise _how_ long until she was lying in Jack's bed, willing herself to go to sleep. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't get comfortable, not when she could still smell the scent of his shampoo lingering on his pillow, _feel_ the shallow grooves in the mattress left by his body.

He was everywhere in this room: in the worn bedspread that covered her, in the clothes draped over the back of the chair in the corner, in the books on the nightstand when she fumbled to turn on the light.

The only thing missing was _him_.

She forced herself to push all thoughts of Claire's book out of her head, picking up a novel from the top of the stack to keep from imagining what it would be like if he _were_ there.

It was brand new, the pages flat and fused together, the spine unbroken; she wondered how long it had been sitting there among all of the journals and textbooks that he was studying for work, and if he would ever let up on himself long enough to read it.

She dropped it onto the bed beside her and sat up when she heard a soft tap on the door.

"Kate?" Claire's voice. She could tell from the wobble in it that she was trying not to cry.

"Claire, honey, what's wrong?" she asked her, alarmed when she opened it to the sight of her ashen face, illuminated by the dim light spilling from her own room.

"My stomach. It _really_ hurts," she complained, wrapping her arm around it, as if to emphasise her point.

Kate felt her own stomach clench with fear. She couldn't be in labour. Not yet. She wasn't due for another three weeks.

"Okay… We should probably get you to the hospital, just in case this is it," she told her, fighting back a wave of panic. Jack was supposed to be here. He was the one with all of the training. She'd never even witnessed a birth in real life before.

"Do you have a bag?" she asked her. She didn't even know what they were supposed to pack.

She was relieved when Claire nodded. "It's in my room," she agreed.

She still hadn't gotten around to buying her own car, so she would just have to borrow Jack's truck, she decided. She could call him from the hospital. "I'll get it for you," she told her. "You just try to relax."

She hadn't made it more than a few steps when Claire called after her. "Kate?"

She stopped, tensing. "Yeah?"

"Will you stay with me?" Her voice was so soft and meek that Kate wasn't sure that she'd heard right at first. "I don't wanna do this alone."

She was talking about the delivery. With any luck, Jack would be back by then. From what she'd heard, it could take hours. "Of course," she agreed.

* * *

Next chapter: Another phone call, but will Jack make it back in time, and if not, how will Kate cope? ;)


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks for the reviews. Even though Claire is the one giving birth, this is still a Jate story, so I wanted to give this chapter a Jate spin -- I hope no one minds! ;)

* * *

Chapter 13.

"I think… I think it's coming," Claire announced from the backseat.

As near as Kate could tell, her contractions were coming less than a minute apart now, which she knew wasn't a good sign. It wasn't taking as long as she'd hoped. She hadn't even had a chance to call Jack yet.

"Just hold on, Claire," she pleaded, gripping the steering wheel so hard that it turned her knuckles white as she waited for the lights to change. A few more blocks and they would be at the hospital. "We're almost there."

In the rear view mirror, she saw Claire shake her head. "We have to pull over," she insisted.

Ten more minutes. That was all that she needed; she didn't care how many laws she had to break. She pushed down on the accelerator.

"Pull over!" Claire cried, bracing herself against the front seats so that she could stick her head into the cabin of the truck. Her face contorted with pain. "_Now_, Kate!"

For a split second, Kate considered pretending that she hadn't heard her and making a break for it instead, but she knew that she would never forgive herself if something went wrong.

"Okay." She applied pressure to the breaks, manoeuvring the truck into a ditch at the side of the road.

Claire fell back against the seat with a low moan, gripping her belly.

What now? Kate thought as she killed the ignition.

Jack.

He was a doctor. He could tell her what to do.

Her hands were trembling as she dug her cell out of her purse, so much that she almost dropped it several times before she managed to bring his name up on the screen.

Please, God, let him pick up, she prayed as it started to ring, turning to give Claire her best reassuring smile. She didn't know how she was going to get through this without him.

Some of the tension left her when she heard a click on the other end of the line. "Jack Shephard." His voice was slurred and disoriented like he'd just woken up from a deep sleep.

Any other time, she would have found it adorable – and teased him about it – but her only coherent thought was that this wasn't happening. It _couldn't_ be happening. "Hey, it's me," she told him, sucking in a deep, shuddering breath. "Claire's having the baby..."

* * *

"_Claire's having the baby..."_

Jack shook himself out of his sleep-muddled state as his brain began to catch up. "Kate? Where are you?" he asked, pressing the phone closer to his ear to compensate for the poor reception on her end.

"We're in your truck, a couple of blocks from St. Sebastian's," she explained, the near hysterical edge in her tone not lost on him as she added, "Jack, I don't think she's gonna make it!"

It was all he could do not to panic himself, but she was counting on him to stay cool and in control. He scrambled back so that he was sitting against the headboard, giving her his full attention. "You're gonna have to go around and check for me, describe what you see," he told her.

"Okay," she agreed; he could picture her obedient nod as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

He listened to the driver's side door open and then slam shut, followed by what he assumed was the one behind it.

Her voice grew softer, incomprehensible as she turned away to murmur something to Claire. "Oh God, Jack – the _head_…" she said into the phone. "I see it."

So she was right. They weren't going to make it. He cursed under his breath. There was nothing he could do from where he was; she would have to be his eyes and hands in this. "Listen Kate, I'm gonna talk you through it but you're gonna have to deliver the baby yourself."

As he expected, his announcement was met with protest from her. "No, Jack, I _can't_," she complained. "What I should be doing is calling 911…"

And they would tell her the same thing. "Yes, you can, Kate. You have to," he insisted, doing his best to soothe her despite his impatience. They didn't have time for her to second guess herself.

"As the baby comes out, it's gonna turn to one side. That's normal. What I need you to do is support it - especially the head," he instructed. "Did you get all that?"

She sounded more confident as she asked, "That's all I have to do? I just catch him?"

"That's all, Kate," he agreed. That would have to do. She wasn't a doctor or a midwife; their aim was just to get the baby out without any harm coming to him or Claire.

"He's gonna be slippery, so be careful," he warned her. "Make sure you get a good grip."

"Okay, I can do this," she repeated, steeling herself. "You hear about it all the time."

There was a rustling on the other end as she helped Claire get into position. "Claire? On the count of three, I want you to start pushing, okay?" she told her. "One… Two…!"

On three, Claire's scream shot down the phone line, causing all of the muscles in his stomach to tighten.

More than anything, he wished that he could be there, that he could do something to make it easier for both of them; he felt helpless when the only sounds he was able to make out were his sister's pained cries and Kate's gentle but firm words of encouragement.

"It's a boy," she announced into the phone, breathless and happy, when it was all over. He could hear the smile in her voice. "He's beautiful, Jack. I wish you could see him."

He grinned, relieved. "That's great. Now find something to wrap him in..." He trailed off, alarmed, when he caught snippets of a strained conversation on the other end.

"What…? What's wrong with him?" he heard Claire demand from somewhere in the background.

"Jack... What do I do? He's not... he's not crying!" Kate choked out. He could tell that she was trying hard not to cry herself.

"Hey, stay calm, okay?" he told her. She was doing so well, keeping it together; they couldn't afford for her to lose it now. "Just cover his mouth and give him two gentle puffs of air. That should get his lungs working. Then rub his back."

He relaxed when a baby's shrill cry informed him that it had worked.

"Did you hear that, Jack?" she said, the fear fading from her tone. "I did it! _We_ did it!"

As he listened to the sound of her overjoyed laughter, all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss her again. "You were amazing," he agreed.

"I couldn't have done it without you," she insisted.

But they weren't done yet. There would be plenty of time for celebrating later, when he was back in L.A. "Wrap him up and give him to Claire," he told her. "And if you can, try to get her to nurse him. It'll help clear his throat."

There was another flurry of movement on her end. "Do I need to cut the cord?" she checked. "Because I don't think we have anything…"  
"No, just get them to the hospital. They'll do the rest," he assured her.

He slid out of bed, switching on the computer on the desk. It was early; with any luck, he could still get a seat on the next flight. "Tell Claire I'll be there as soon as I can. And Kate?" he added as an afterthought, before she could hang up. "I'm so proud of you…"

* * *

Next chapter: Kate introduces Jack to his nephew, and Claire has an important question for both of them... ;)


	14. Chapter 14

Thanks for the reviews. I meant to have this up sooner but the show is killing my inspiration at the moment. I don't know about you guys, but I actually can't wait for this season to be over. Bring on season six, I say! ;)

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Chapter 14.

Jack smiled when he entered Claire's room at the hospital early the next morning and discovered both women asleep, Kate curled in the chair by the bed with her arm tucked under her cheek as a kind of makeshift pillow.

Setting his luggage on the floor, he crouched down beside her to brush back the hair that had fallen into her eyes; she stirred at the contact, blinking at him in confusion.

"Hey," he greeted her in a low voice, careful not to wake Claire, who he was sure must need her rest after her ordeal the night before.

To his surprise, Kate threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his coat; taking it as an admission that she'd missed him as much as he'd missed her, he seized on the excuse to hold her close for a moment, breathing in the familiar scent of her skin.

"How is she?" he asked, nodding at his sister, when the awkwardness of their position forced him to let her go.

A sympathetic smile played at the corners of her lips as she glanced over at Claire. "She's exhausted," she told him, "but she's been a real trooper. You would've been so proud of her." She winced as she tried to straighten, lifting a hand to massage the back of her neck.

"What about you? How're you doing?" he asked her, returning his attention to her. If he had to guess, he would say that she was still a little shaken up.

"Better now that you're here," she confessed, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

"We make a pretty good team, don't we?" he agreed, laying his palm over the back of hers. It felt so good to be touching her again.

She smiled as she slid from the chair, using his hand to pull him up. "Come on."

"Where're we going?" he asked her as she led him back into the corridor; it wasn't until she signalled for him to stop in front of the glass pane that separated them from the nursery that he realised what she was doing.

"There." Without letting go of his hand, she pointed to a crib in the second row from the window. "That's your nephew."

Behind the word 'Littleton', an infant with a light dusting of golden hair lay sleeping, wrapped in a blue blanket. "What's his name?" he asked her, sharing her grin as he looked him over. Already, he was the spitting image of Claire.

"Aaron."

"Aaron," he repeated, trying it out. "Aaron Littleton." That's what Claire had always said she was going to call him.

"There he is – my grandson," a voice boomed from behind them.

Jack let go of Kate's hand, turning to see his father hurrying towards them, still dressed in his scrubs. "I was just about to call you, Dad," he lied; in truth, he hadn't thought of it until now. "How did you...?" He snuck a furtive glance at Kate, who shook her head as if to say it wasn't her.

"One of the nurses told me when I got out of surgery," his father explained, stopping beside them so that he could admire the baby. "Have you spoken to Claire's doctors?"

"No, my flight just got in," Jack confessed, "but Kate here has been taking excellent care of her." He beamed at her, enjoying the pink flush that crept into her cheeks as he added, "She delivered the baby herself, you know."

His father tore his gaze from his grandson, noticing her for the first time then. "You were Jack's date at the ball," he said.

"That's right," she agreed with a polite smile.

"Christian Shephard," he introduced himself, offering his hand for her to shake. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Kate."

"You too, Dr. Shephard," she said as she took it. "I've heard so much about you."

He raised an eyebrow at Jack, his pale eyes boring into his. "I wish I could say the same for you, but my son tends to play these things pretty close to the chest," he told her, though Jack knew these words were directed at him.

"It was nice meeting you, Kate," he repeated; he squeezed Jack's shoulder as he moved past him, in the direction of the nurses' station. "Don't forget about that dinner, son."

"Dinner?" Kate probed when he was gone.

Jack shifted, uncomfortable. "You don't wanna know," he insisted, hoping that that would be the end of it, but of course this only seemed to make her more curious.

"Maybe I do," she teased him, though he could hear the underlying seriousness in her tone.

"He invited us over for dinner," he explained with a sigh. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to feel like you were obligated to go."

She eyed him with a sidelong glance, her lips twisting into a playful smirk as she asked, "Are you ashamed of me, Jack?"

"Of course not!" he spluttered, not sure how to tell her that if anything, it was just the opposite: he didn't want his father undermining him in front of her, convincing her to see him through his eyes.

"Then you wouldn't mind if I decided to take him up on that?"

She had him backed into a corner and they both knew it. "No. No, I wouldn't," he agreed, defeated.

She turned back to the glass with a smug grin.

Just then, one of the nurses came to the door. "Dr. Shephard," she greeted him, poking her head out into the hall. "Come to see your nephew, have you?"

"Yeah," he agreed.

She smiled. "Would you like to hold him?"

"Go on," Kate insisted, nudging him with her shoulder when he hesitated, shooting her an uncertain look. "He won't bite."

"Coming?" he asked her as he moved to follow the nurse inside. If they were going to be living with him for the time being, then he was going to have to learn how to be more comfortable around him.

When they reached Aaron's crib, the nurse lifted him out, placing him in Jack's arms. His palm dwarfed his small head, which fit inside with room to spare; all of a sudden Jack felt huge as he tried to adjust his grip on his fragile body without crushing it.

"Don't tell me you've never held a baby before?" Kate teased him, laughing at his awkwardness.

"Not like this," he admitted, tensing when his nephew startled awake, letting out a soft whimper. Until that moment, his dealings with infants had been limited to patients, and even then, it was rare that he would be required to pick one up.

The baby made a high-pitched mewling sound, sucking in a deep breath, as if preparing to cry. "Give him here." Kate held out her own arms and Jack transferred him into them, watching in awe as she settled him against her chest.

If he didn't know any better, he might have believed that _she_ was his mother; she had the same natural ease with him that he'd witnessed when he'd spent the day with her and her charges. It was like getting a glimpse into the future… a future that could be his if he stopped being a coward and just admitted that he wanted more from their relationship than what he was getting.

"Hey, it's okay, you're okay," she cooed, cradling the baby's tiny head against her shoulder, jiggling him up and down while she paced the length of the nursery. Almost as soon as his fussing started, it stopped; she grinned as he began to nod off again, looking pleased with herself when she glanced back up at Jack. "Is that so hard?"

* * *

It wasn't long before the nurse came back to collect Aaron for his next feeding; Jack offered to buy Kate breakfast from the cafeteria to give his sister some privacy before they returned to the room.

"Hey, Mom," he greeted her as he stooped to kiss her cheek. She was sitting propped up in bed, watching an old sitcom on TV with the baby nestled in his crib beside her. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I just gave birth to an eight pound baby – well seven pounds, eight ounces," she quipped. "I'm glad he didn't stay in for another three weeks – can you imagine how big he would've been then?"

He was relieved to see that she was already back to her old animated self. He laughed.

"It could've been worse," Kate teased her, perching on the end of the bed so that Jack could take the chair. "He could've been one of those twelve pounders you hear about on the news."

Claire voiced her disapproval with an exaggerated shudder. "I'm gunna remind you of that one day," she warned her, feigning petulance. "We'll see how _you_ feel then."

The smirk slid from Kate's lips, her cheeks colouring as she cleared her throat. "So have you given any thought to his middle name?" she asked, changing the subject.

Jack couldn't blame her for being uncomfortable when he was sure that in saying this, his sister had already nominated him as the father of Kate's future child. How else did she know that she would be there when it happened?

"I'll have to get back to you on that one," she confessed, leaning over the crib with an affectionate smile to tuck a loose foot back inside the folds of the blanket. "But I did make a decision while you were gone."

"What's that?" Jack asked, exchanging a wary glance with Kate as he recognised her tone. She was up to something.

"I want you to be his godfather," she explained, a picture of seriousness as she settled back against the pillows, folding her hands across her deflated stomach, but he could see the twinkle in her eyes as she added, "And Kate? Since you delivered him, I think you should be his godmother…"

* * *

Next chapter: Kate receives a late night visit from Jack and Aaron... ;)


	15. Chapter 15

Thanks for the reviews. I thought it was time Jack learned about Kate's past: as I mentioned in the first chapter, both of their backstories are similiar to the show (except for the fugitive thing!), I just fleshed her's out since we know very little about her life before she killed Wayne. It's a little dark and angsty, but hopefully the Aaron fluff makes up for it! ;)

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Chapter 15.

"I don't understand – I just fed him," Claire complained over the sound of her son's howls.

He'd been crying on and off for close to an hour, and she was almost at the end of her patience; Jack could see that she was trying hard not to burst into tears herself as she walked him back and forth across the living room.

When was the last time she'd had a few minutes to relax? "Here, let me take him while you get some sleep," he offered. It was what he should be doing himself, but there was little chance of that happening until Aaron was down.

Claire hesitated, clutching him to her chest, as though afraid to let him out of her sight. "Are you sure, Jack?" She bit her lip. "I mean you've been working all day…"

"I'm sure, Claire," he agreed, lifting the baby out of her arms. Her anxiety only seemed to be making things worse. "Go, take care of yourself." He nestled him against his own shoulder, jiggling him the way Kate had shown him. "I've got it covered."

She flashed him a grateful smile. "Thanks." Stroking Aaron's scalp with her palm, she rushed out of the room; a moment later he heard her door click shut behind her.

"Guess it's just you and me now, buddy," he told the baby, patting his back with the tips of his fingers – the smallest part of his hand – to soothe him.

Despite his brave words to Claire, he could feel himself growing more and more helpless as his nephew continued to wail, his little face turning purple. He tightened his grip to keep from dropping him. Searching the apartment for something to distract him, his eyes fell on his pram, parked in the foyer; remembering Kate's explanation about movement, he settled him inside, rocking it back and forth by the handle, relieved when this seemed to have a calming effect.

"You like that, don't you?" he said with a grin when the baby stopped squirming and stared up at him with wide blue eyes – Claire's eyes.

He didn't want to risk undoing his hard work, so he scribbled a quick note to Claire with his free hand, in case she woke up, and dragged the pram out into the hall.

The plan was to keep rolling it from one end to the other until his nephew passed out from exhaustion, but he paused halfway to the lift when he saw the light spilling under Kate's door.

He hadn't expected to find her up at this hour. "Why don't we go see what Aunty Kate is doing?" he suggested; taking the baby's answering gurgle as a sign of agreement, he changed course, heading for her apartment instead.

"Hey," she greeted him when she opened it dressed in a pair of old sweats, her hair still damp from the shower, and saw him standing there.

Her gaze travelled to the pram at his feet, and on instinct, she bent to pick his nephew up. "Hi, Aaron," she cooed, pressing her lips to the top of his downy head.

She shifted her attention back to Jack with the baby still in her arms. "What're you doing here? It's the middle of the night," she reminded him, searching his expression. "Is Claire okay?"

"She's fine," he assured her. "Your godson and I were just about to take a walk – care to join us?"

* * *

"I can't wait to have one of these," Kate said, smiling down at Aaron when he curled his delicate fingers around hers as they sat on a bench in the deserted park.

She snuck a glance at Jack out of the corner of her eye. "What about you? Does this mean you've changed your mind about having kids?"

"I'm not sure I'd make a very good father," he confessed. It wasn't that he hated them, or that he didn't want them, it was just better this way, when all he had to do was pick up the slack for Claire.

"You never did get around to explaining why that is," she reminded him.

"Well, for one thing, I'm never home," he insisted. He'd missed Aaron's birth – did he really want to take that risk with his own child? Then there were all of the other firsts that he would never be able to get back.

"And yet here you are taking care of your nephew in the middle of the night," she pointed out.

He didn't know how to answer, so he decided to let it go, watching her watch Aaron instead.

"You know, I was pregnant once," she announced in a soft voice, without taking her eyes off his nephew. When she'd told him that she'd almost had kids, he hadn't realised that she was being literal.

He could tell that she on the cusp of revealing something very important, something that would explain why she was so resistant to questions about her past. "What happened?" he asked her, hardly daring to breathe in case he scared her off again. Had she had an abortion? Had she given the baby away? Surely she would have mentioned it if she had a child back home?

Her green eyes darkened with anger. "Wayne – _Wayne_ happened."

"He was the father?" Jack guessed.

"He was _my_ father – _is_," she corrected herself, her expression twisting with disgust.

What did her father have to do with it? Unless he was the one who'd forced her hand. "I'm sorry, Kate, but I'm not sure I'm following – how old did you say you were?"

"It was the summer after I graduated high school. I'd just turned eighteen. I knew I wasn't going to college by then, so…" She trailed off with a dismissive shrug, but he could see the tears brimming in her eyes.

"Hey, it's okay – you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he assured her, in case she was only reliving it for his benefit.

She shook her head. "You and Claire have been so good to me. You made me feel like part of your family – the least I can do it tell you about mine."

"Okay," he agreed, nodding. He reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "When you're ready." He'd wait all night if that was what she needed.

"We had a plan. We were gonna get married, get our own place. I'd stay home with the baby while Tom worked, and then at night, we'd switch," she continued. "But Wayne, he liked to get drunk. He'd come back from the bar, reeking of booze and he'd hit my mom, and sometimes – if I got in the way – he'd hit me too."

Jack felt sick to his stomach at what he sensed was coming. "Kate, did he… did he hurt you while you were pregnant?" he asked, even though he didn't know if he could hear anymore.

"He didn't know," she confessed. "I wasn't gonna tell him – I was just gonna leave – but one night I came home and he… he wasn't gonna stop, Jack." She was sobbing now, the words coming out in painful gasps. "So I jumped on him, tried to pin his arms back…"

When she met his eyes again, hers were hard, as grey and as cold as steel. "He kicked me seven times while I was on the ground, dislocated my elbow, fractured three of my ribs. I miscarried a week later. I wanted to kill him, for ruining my life, and keeping me there – I thought of all the ways I could do it – but by then my mom was sick, and I knew if I did…" Here her voice broke again. "I came here to get away from him."

The anger that had been fuelling her story seemed to go out of her as he pulled her against him, while his burned with an intensity that scared him. He'd never even met the man and he wanted to kill him himself for what he'd done to her. "What about your mom?" he asked, remembering how she'd spoken about her in the past tense.

"He can't hurt her anymore," she whispered into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Kate, but I'm not sorry you're here," he confessed, "because I think I finally understand what Claire was doing when she invited you over for dinner. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time."

She smiled through her tears as she raised her head to look at him. "Me too," she agreed, and he could feel his own face break into a grin.

If ever there was an opening for him to act on the feelings that had been building steadily inside of him over the past few weeks, then this was it. Weaving his fingers through her long curls, he used them to draw her in closer, grazing her lips with his to test her reaction.

She parted them in response, closing her eyes and taking his jaw in both palms to deepen the kiss.

Without breaking it, he slid his hands down to her waist, happy to give her control.

The first time had been about making a point; the second about stealing a moment that he could take back later, but this, this was something purer, more honest… Not love – _yet_ – although he had no longer had any doubt that the seed had been planted.

All he knew was that he couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted anything as much as he wanted this.

He sighed when Aaron let out a high-pitched squeak, a warning that he was about to start fussing again. "We should probably get this little guy back to his mom," he told her, resting his forehead against hers while they waited for their breath to return. He placed a conciliatory peck against the corner of her mouth, laughing when he felt it twitch into a smile. "Come on..."

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Next chapter: Jack and Kate take a step forward in their relationship... ;)


	16. Chapter 16

Thanks for the reviews. A funny thing happened to me today: for the first time in ages I was actually inspired to finish this chapter after seeing the new episode! I'm hoping that that lasts long enough to update my other fic as well... ;)

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Chapter 16.

"Where's Claire?" Kate asked Jack the next morning when she went to check in on them. For the first time since she'd met him she felt shy in his presence, unsure of how to act around him after the intimacy they'd shared the night before. Were they finally together, or did the old rules still apply?

Or worse, was she damaged goods in his eyes now?

"She went to the store to pick up some things for Aaron, and then they're meeting Dad at the hospital," he explained. He raised his eyebrows: an invitation. "She won't be back for at least another hour. Maybe two."

She couldn't help grinning at the obvious change in his attitude, relieved that he wasn't avoiding her, or pretending that none of it had happened. "So we're alone?" she checked, taking a step closer to him, encouraged by the way his breath hitched, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip in anticipation.

"We're alone," he agreed, breaking into a grin of his own.

She grasped the front of his shirt in her fists. "Then I guess it's safe to do this," she said, kissing him just like he'd kissed her in the park.

"Definitely." He pulled her into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind them.

She allowed him guide her over to the couch, urging him down with her, intoxicated by the feeling of having his hands on her, of being able to touch him like this.

"She suspect anything yet?" she asked, wondering what Claire would make of them acting like a pair of hormone crazed teenagers when she was the one who kept insisting that they get a room.

"You know, I think she's given up," he confessed between kisses. "She was just lecturing me this morning on how hopeless I am."

He broke contact with her long enough to shift his lips to the column of her throat, paying particular attention to the hollow beneath her ear. "Mmm… Have I ever told you how good you smell?" he murmured into her neck. "Like flowers."

She had shut her eyes, enjoying the sensations, but she let them to drift open again then, turning her face to his. "That's sweet," she told him with a smile.

"What is that? Perfume?" he continued, his voice muffled by her skin.

"Shampoo," she corrected him.

He let out a soft, throaty chuckle. "Well whatever it is, I approve."

She decided that she liked this side of him the best. For once, he actually seemed content. "Have I ever told _you_ how cute you are?"

He didn't reply, drawing her in for another round of passionate kisses, during which his fingers found their way under her shirt, tracing a path up her sides.

At some point they were going to have to discuss the new development in their relationship, to figure out what it all meant. "Jack? What're we doing?" she asked, grasping them to prevent them from wandering any further, even though a part of her couldn't help wondering what would happen if she didn't. Would it really be like Claire's book said? Or would it be better now that she'd had time to get to know him?

"I think it's called making out, Kate," he teased her, ducking his head again, and she blushed, but she pressed her palm to his chest to block him from coming any closer.

That wasn't what she'd meant, and she sensed that somewhere deep down, he must realise that too. "Exactly," she insisted. "I know you said we should just be friends, but _this_…" She waved her hand, indicating the compromising position that they now found themselves in, "…keeps happening." He was holding himself so that his weight was suspended over her; all he had to do was bend his elbows and his body would be flush against hers. It should be uncomfortable, yet somehow, it wasn't. It was all she could do not to close the gap herself.

"You're right," he agreed. "We should stop."

But he didn't.

And she wasn't about to ask him to.

Now that they'd torn down the invisible barrier between them, it was like a drug. She didn't know if she would ever be able to get enough of him. "Is that really what you want?" she pressed when he brought his lips back to hers, stealing another heated kiss, which she was powerless to deny him.

"No," he admitted. "You?"

"No," she assured him with a breathless laugh. Of course she didn't just want something physical with him either. She wanted it to last between them, not just for herself, but for him too. They'd both been hurt enough: her when Tom abandoned their plans and left her to go off to college, and him when his wife walked out on him to be with a man whose name he might never discover. "So maybe it's time we revisited that conversation?"

"What're you saying? You wanna go out on a date?" he supplied, pulling back to study her face.

"Since we're already making out, the least you can do is buy me dinner," she told him, keeping her tone light so that he wouldn't think she was trying to give him an ultimatum… even though in a way, she was.

After their last conversation, she expected him to back off, to argue that he still wasn't ready for anything serious, but to her relief, his playfulness returned. "As you wish," he agreed. "Just name the time and the place and I'll be there."

She should have been happy with that, but she wanted to make sure that he really meant it. That it was really a date this time. "Well?" she insisted after a moment, wriggling back out of his grip.

His brow furrowed into an uncertain frown when he noticed her expectant look. "Well what?"

"Aren't you gonna ask me?" she prompted, feigning petulance.

His confusion turned to bewilderment. "Isn't that what I just did?" he insisted.

If anything, she'd been the one to ask him; he'd just gone along with her suggestion. Claire was right: he _was_ hopeless. She pushed him away again. "Jack," she complained in an exasperated tone. "Do you know _anything_ about women?" So what if it was her idea?

He rolled his eyes, huffing out an exaggerated sigh when it occurred to him that he wasn't going to get what he wanted until she did. "Kate, would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

She might have hit him for making fun of her if he wasn't being so sincere. He really was too cute. She grinned. "I would love to," she agreed, and this time, she allowed her body to mould back into his when he moved in to kiss her again.

* * *

Chapter: How will Claire react to the news that Jack _finally_ asked Kate out on a real date? ;)


	17. Chapter 17

Thanks for the reviews. I meant to update this fic sooner but real life kept getting in the way. That said, first date chapters are always extremely difficult to write, so hopefully you'll like the direction I decided to take this one in... ;)

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Chapter 17.

"You look nice," Claire said when she walked past Jack's room the next evening and saw him scrutinizing himself in the mirror. "Doesn't he look nice?" she asked her son, bouncing him against her shoulder. "What's the occasion?"

"I'm taking Kate out to dinner," Jack explained without turning to face her, smoothing the creases out of his dress shirt with his palms.

"Dad made reservations at that new French place in the city – you guys should come with us," she offered, and for the first time, he noticed that she was dressed to go out herself.

"Thanks, but I promised her it would be just the two of us," he told her. "We have some things we need to talk about."

He felt the corners of his mouth twist into a smile when her jaw almost hit the floor. "Ha ha. Very funny," she said once she'd had time to recover.

It was his turn to be taken aback. "I wasn't trying to be funny," he assured her.

"You're making fun of me. I get it. You want me to butt out," she continued as if he hadn't spoken.

Was it really _so_ crazy for him to have a change of heart? "I'm serious, Claire," he insisted. "Kate and I have a date."

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Oh, she's in on it too," she said when she opened it to find Kate standing outside in a strapless black dress that ended just below her knees, her long curls pinned up on the crown of her head.

He was going to pick her up but the sight of her there made him smile.

"In on what?" she mouthed, fixing him with a quizzical expression.

"You look beautiful," he mouthed back, ignoring her question. There would be plenty of time for him to explain later.

Claire glanced from Kate to him and back again as she laid Aaron inside his car seat. "We're gunna go, but you two enjoy your _date_," she told them, shaking her head.

"What was that all about?" Kate asked him when they were alone.

"Aside from the fact that my sister is completely insane?"

She hooked her finger though his belt buckle, using it to drag him in closer. "It's a good thing she is, or you and I might never have met," she teased him.

It was getting harder to remember how empty his life had been without her in it. He didn't like to think about it. "Remind me to thank her for that one of these days," he agreed, kissing her.

"We're not gonna make it to the restaurant at this rate," she complained when it threatened to turn into a repeat of the day before.

"Raincheck?"

She smiled and kissed him again. "I'm gonna hold you to that."

* * *

The restaurant was a trendy upscale sushi bar in the heart of the city, with tiny square tables and low leather couches.

"Where did you find this place, Jack?" she asked, wrinkling her nose as she took it all in.

It wasn't at all what he'd had in mind. "One of the nurses recommended it," he explained, scratching his head with his free hand. He hadn't had time to research it; he'd just called information for the number. "I've never eaten here myself."

The furrow in her brow deepened. "I can see why."

He cursed himself for not checking it out before making reservations. "We can go somewhere else—" he began, grateful when she cut him off with a gentle peck.

"No, it's fine, Jack," she insisted, just as the hostess returned to take them to their table: a small booth by a tinted glass wall that looked out over the city.

"Let me know when you find something that sounds edible," he joked as they skimmed their menus. He'd never understood the appeal of raw fish, much less why anyone would pay that much for it.

Neither, it seemed, did she. "I think I'll just have the grilled salmon," she announced with a wry smile, snapping hers shut.

It was the only thing on the menu that he recognised. "Me too," he agreed.

He relayed their orders to the waitress when she stopped by their table.

"So…" he began to fill the awkward silence that followed.

"So," she echoed.

"How're the kids?"

She relaxed at the mention of one of her favourite topics. "They're good," she assured him. "Jayden was asking about you – he wants to know when you're gonna come watch SpongeBob with him again."

He was surprised that the little boy even remembered him. Was it really only a little over a month ago now that Kate had dragged him along to the zoo? "He's a great kid," he told her. "We should definitely take them out again."

"I'll check with Rebecca," she agreed.

Everything about the conversation was comfortable, familiar and yet it felt foreign to him here, now. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, following their waitress with his eyes as she passed their table with a stack of plates. What was taking the food so long?

"I've been meaning to ask you," Kate said, drawing his attention back to her. "How did that surgery go?"

"Fine," he agreed, perking up at her question. "We were able to relieve most of the pressure on the nerves, so with a little luck, after physiotherapy, he should be able to walk again."

He waited for her to say something, but when he glanced at her, she didn't appear to be listening. "Kate? Is something wrong? You seem… distracted."

"This is weird," she blurted out.

"Really?" he checked, relieved that it wasn't just him.

"_Really_," she insisted. "I already know where you work, your star sign, what your stance is on kids – I've met most of your family." She leant across the table, lowering her voice. "I let you get to second base."

They might have made it to third if he hadn't been called into the hospital. He laughed. "I wasn't gonna say anything, but you're right. This _is_ weird," he agreed. Somehow it felt fake, forced.

"It just isn't us," she continued, the most animated he'd seen her since they'd left the apartment. "Hotdogs on the boardwalk, take out in front of the TV – _that's_ us."

"I'm sorry, Kate. I just wanted you to have the perfect date," he confessed.

"I don't need a perfect date, Jack – all I need is you," she assured him, reaching across the table for his hand.

He checked his watch. It was only a little after eight. "Claire should still be at dinner with my father, so what d'you say we get the check and go pick up a pizza?"

She grinned. "I'd say, now _that_ sounds like a plan."

* * *

"You know where everything is," he said, flicking on the lights as he let them into the foyer. He set the pizza box down on the coffee table. "Can I get you a drink?"

She twisted her hands together to solve the problem of what to do with them. "A drink would be great," she agreed. Her heels clacked against the tiles as she follows him into the kitchen.

"Why don't you go sit down, make yourself comfortable?" he told her, taking two wine glasses from the cabinet. "I'll be out in a minute."

The only sounds in the apartment were of him rattling around in the kitchen, and the tick of the clock, so she picked up the remote and switched on the TV, but that did nothing to calm her nerves as she stepped out of her shoes and arranged herself at one end of the couch. She'd been there with him more times than she could count, sitting on that same couch, eating dinner and drinking wine and laughing, but tonight was different: special.

He took advantage of his position, sneaking an impulsive kiss as he placed the glass in front of her. "Relax," he murmured. "I won't bite." He chuckled, close to her ear: why hadn't she noticed how sexy his laugh was before? "I promise."

His words succeeded in drawing a smile out of her; as soon as he was settled she turned his face back to hers so that she could kiss him.

"I know, I just… You're my best friend, Jack," she told him when they pulled back. "I don't wanna mess everything up."

He let his forehead drop against hers. "You don't have to be afraid of me, Kate. I won't hurt you, or leave you like Tom," he said, and she knew that he believed it.

She made a decision then.

Taking the glass from his hand, she returned it to the table beside hers. "I seem to remember you saying something about a raincheck," she reminded him in a suggestive tone.

"What about the pizza?" he asked when she hitched up her dress and climbed onto his lap, a slow smile spreading over his features.

She wound her arms around his neck. "It'll keep," she insisted, inching forward, closing the distance between them.

It didn't take them long to pick up where they'd left off before.

"We should go to your room… Claire…" she managed to gasp as their kisses intensified, mortified at the thought of his sister walking in on them moments away from having sex on the couch. What if his father was with her?

"It's almost worth getting caught just to see the look on her face," he teased her; before she could anticipate his next movement, he threw her caveman-style over his shoulder, wrapping his arm around the backs of her knees.

"Jack!" she shrieked, clutching his bicep in a death grip as the floor spun beneath her, "I'm wearing a dress!" but she was laughing and so was he.

He deposited her back on her feet when they reached his bedroom.

"You could've dropped me!" she insisted, aiming a playful blow at his chest once she was back on solid ground.

Her hair had tumbled out of the remaining pins. "I would never let you fall, Kate," he told her, his voice low and serious as he reached up to brush a curl back from her face.

She could feel the words on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't know if he was ready to hear them, much less say them back, so she kissed him instead, pulling him down onto the bed with her.

"You should know, I don't normally do this on the first date," she told him when her fingers seemed to find his buttons of their own accord, but she didn't think that she could stop it now if she wanted to.

"Well, if we say it was really the ball, then technically that makes this our _sixth_," he corrected her, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he fumbled with the back of her dress.

"Fooling around on your couch doesn't count as a date, Jack," she insisted with a laugh, rolling her eyes at him, even though he was too focused on getting her out of her clothes to see it.

"Okay then, _fifth_," he agreed, pressing a gentle kiss to shoulder. The zip finally gave and he tugged it down, allowing her to feel his skin against hers.

There was a part of her that still couldn't believe this was happening. "What did I do to deserve being this happy?" she asked him.

Any doubts she had about what they were doing left her when he shifted his hands to her waist, gazing up at her with an adoring smile. "I was just thinking the same thing..."

* * *

Next chapter: An awkward encounter between Kate and Claire... ;)

On a side note, I have an idea for what I think will be a really unique Jate fic, set after The Incident (The only way I can describe it is to call it a combination of canon and AU, in a _similar_ vein to Change One Thing, Change Everything) but that would mean slower updates on this and Deja Vu...


	18. Chapter 18

Thanks for the reviews. (Although I would _really_ like to make it to 300 ;)) I would've had this chapter up on the weekend but I'm getting sick (not swine flu... I hope!), so I've been going to bed uncharacteristically early... ;)

* * *

Chapter 18.

"Why did it take us so long to do this?" Kate asked, raking her fingernails over Jack's scalp in languid strokes as they lay tangled up in his sheets, his head on her stomach, arm slung across her hip.

He smiled at her words, raising himself up onto his elbows to kiss her. "I don't know, but I think it's safe to say we're making up for it now."

She laughed into his mouth; a joyful sound that made him chuckle too. "You know, Jack, somehow I never pictured you having this much stamina," she teased him.

Despite their earlier eagerness, they'd taken their time getting acquainted with one another, making it last.

He shifted onto his side, propping himself up to face her. "You're saying you've imagined this before?" he asked her.

The room was lit only by the moonlight streaming in through his curtains; he could just make out her blush in the dim glow as she replied, "You're saying you _haven't_?"

Of course he had. The thought of her in his bed had driven him crazy while he was in DC, filling his mind with unwarranted images, but now that they were here, he realised that the reality was so much better than anything his mind could conjure up. "Well it has been a while," he agreed, deciding to downplay it, unsure how she would feel hearing that he'd fantasised about her while they were just supposed to be friends.

"How long is 'a while'?" she pressed, her playful tone returning.

In all of the time that they'd spent together, sex was one of the few things they'd never discussed, and with good reason. While he knew that he wasn't the first man she'd been with, he didn't like to think about anyone else touching her, even her fiancé. "Are you sure you wanna talk about this?" he asked her, afraid of ruining what had otherwise been a perfect evening by bringing up their exes.

She shot him a Look. "Jack."

If it didn't bother her, then he guessed there was no reason why he shouldn't be honest with her. "Almost a year," he told her. "Not since Sarah." Even if he had been willing to put himself out there again, finding time alone with a date wasn't easy with Claire spying on his every move. They were lucky to get her out of the house tonight.

To his surprise, she didn't seem as shocked as he'd thought she would be.

"Why? How long has it been for you?" he asked, curious despite himself.

"You're really gonna make me say it?" she complained, less amused now that it was her turn.

"Kate," he said, mimicking her exasperated tone.

She flopped onto her back with an unhappy sigh. "Almost two," she confessed. "Between keeping an eye on Wayne and taking care of my mom…"

This wasn't the answer that he'd been expecting. "Wow."

While he'd been aware of her beauty from the moment he walked in on Claire showing her the nursery, there was something about the sight of her with her freckled cheeks flushed pink, her dark curls splayed across his pillow that stole the breath from his lungs.

"Why _did_ we wait so long?" he agreed, kissing her again now that he'd had the chance to recover, allowing her to draw him back down on top of her while they made love for the second time that night.

"Yep, that was definitely worth the wait," she assured him with a grin afterwards, burrowing into his embrace when he circled her with his arms.

He was amazed at how well they seemed to fit together, like two halves of the same whole. She was the yin to his yang, his perfect opposite in every way except the ones that really counted.

The corners of her lips curled into a lazy smile as he planted a lingering kiss against her cheekbone. "We forgot the pizza," she reminded him without opening her eyes, looking every bit as sated and exhausted as he felt.

"You're right," he agreed when it occurred to him that in their haste satisfy their need for each other, he still hadn't gotten around to feeding her. "How about I cook you breakfast to make up for it?" he offered.

She turned over onto her stomach beside him so that her chin rested against his chest. "_Or_," she countered, kissing a trail back up to his mouth, "I could go get it… now… and we can eat it… right here…"

But when she moved to sit up, he dragged her back down, trapping her against him with his biceps. "Ah, see, it's the words 'get up' that I have a problem with," he told her. He wasn't in any hurry to leave the comfortable nest that they'd built for themselves. "Wouldn't you rather stay here?"

"Oh, so when you asked me to dinner, that was just an excuse to get me into bed?" she pretended to guess, ducking her head to graze his lips.

He did his best to distract her from going, but it wasn't long before she freed herself from him, leaning over to retrieve his shirt from where it lay discarded on the carpet with her dress.

"You don't mind, do you?" she asked, slipping it on as though it were the most natural thing in the world for her to be wearing his clothes.

"Looks better on you," he agreed as he watched her fingers dance over the buttons, each movement slow and deliberate, teasing him. "Of course it looks even better _off_ you."

"I'll be back," she whispered, leaving him with one final kiss.

* * *

Kate hummed to herself as she wandered through the apartment. She couldn't remember the last time that she'd felt this good, like her life was finally going in the direction that she wanted it to: not since she was eighteen and she and Tom were planning to run away together. She was almost afraid to let herself enjoy it, in case it was all taken away from her again.

She was surprised to see the light on in the kitchen; thinking that it must still be on from before, she rounded the corner, almost jumping out of her skin when she noticed a figure sitting at the table.

"Claire?" she shrieked, tugging on the hem of Jack's shirt in a vain attempt to cover more of herself.

The younger woman was intent on feeding her son, but she started then, her head jerking up as she cried, "_Kate_?"

"Is Aaron okay?" Kate asked to divert her attention away from herself, embarrassed at being caught half-naked in their kitchen. "I didn't even hear him cry."

"He's fine," Claire agreed, waving the question off in favour of one of her own. "What're you doing here?" Her blue eyes widened as she took in Kate's unusual attire. "In my brother's shirt? At two in the morning?"

This wasn't how Kate had envisioned her finding out about them. She'd figured they would wait at least a few more days before telling her. "I… uh…" she stammered, combing her fingers through her tousled hair. She could feel her cheeks flaming as she struggled to form the rest of the sentence. "We…"

Claire stared at her, agape, as her brain pieced together this new information. "Oh… my… God," was all she could say at first, and then she almost leaped out of her chair, jostling Aaron, who began to whimper. "OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod! You guys did it, didn't you?" She gave him a distracted bounce, patting his back.

"Did what?" Kate asked, feigning ignorance, even though she had a pretty good idea of which 'it' she was getting at.

Claire levelled her with a glare that seemed to say, _You _know_ what_. "How was it?" she pressed. "Was it as amazing as the book said? You have to tell me if that whole 'cosmic sex' thing is really true!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kate repeated, desperate to escape that conversation. They might be friends, but Jack was her brother: surely she didn't want details?

"Really?" Claire insisted with a sceptical frown, arching her eyebrow in amusement.

"What?" Kate turned to see Jack frozen in the entrance to the kitchen behind her like the proverbial deer caught under the headlights, clad only in a pair of grey boxers that left little to the imagination.

"I thought you might need help," he explained, his smile sheepish as he leant past her, lifting his hand in a self-conscious wave. "Hey, Claire."

Claire's smirk grew as her eyes travelled the length of his body, stopping on his bare torso. "I'd ask what happened to the rest of your clothes, but…" Her gaze flicked over in Kate's direction.

"So is this a casual, 'friends with benefits' type thing, or…?" She trailed off, her expression hopeful.

Despite Jack's insistence that he would never hurt her, or leave her, they still hadn't gotten around to discussing what this meant for their relationship. "No," he assured his sister, catching Kate's eye with a tentative smile that caused her to break into a grin of her own. "I think it might be a little more than that."

"I'm so happy for you guys," Claire squealed. "I knew you'd be great together!" She shifted her son into the bend of one arm, using the other hand to drag herself to her feet. "Come on, Aaron, let's get you back into bed."

She could barely contain her excitement as she passed Jack on the way into the hall. "You two just carry on with whatever you were doing. We'll be quiet." Her voice rose as she suppressed another squeal for the baby's sake. "You won't even know we're here!"

"I should probably be getting home," Kate said once she had scurried off back to her own room, uncomfortable with the idea that she could be listening. It would make facing her in the morning even more awkward.

"Why?" Jack asked, coming forward to slip his arms around her waist. "She already knows about us." He let his chin drop to the crook of her shoulder, kissing her collarbone. "Come back to bed." He gave her a playful squeeze. "I'll let you keep the shirt…"

She had a feeling that he was going to do that anyway, but she laughed, turning to loop her own arms around his neck. "Okay," she agreed.

* * *

I haven't figured out _exactly_ what the next chapter is going to be (probably breakfast), but some things you can look forward to in upcoming chapters include: dinner with the parents, a date for Claire (with a certain young street performer) and playing house with Aaron... ;)


	19. Chapter 19

Thanks for the reviews. Don't worry, I never forgot about this story (or my others), I've just been dealing with a lot of crap at uni (among other things) that has left me feeling unmotivated to write. After I came back the first time, I decided to go away again while I waited for it to be sorted out. The good news is that I got to see a bunch of awesome Lost props and costumes (including some of the Dharma jumpsuits, Sawyer's letter, Locke's letter to Jack, Kate's toy plane, Desmond's picture and the Suliet rum), and meet Young Ben and Miles' dad. I'm still getting settled so I'm not sure when the next update will be, but you know how you can help. ;)

* * *

Chapter 19.

A pair of slender arms circled Jack's waist, drawing his attention away from the bacon he was frying for breakfast. "Claire," he teased with a throaty chuckle. He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into the soft lips that caressed the ridge of his spine where it protruded above the collar of his shirt. "What if Kate sees us?"

"That's disgusting," she complained, resting her forehead against him, her laughter muffled by his skin.

Propping his spatula against the rim of the pan, he whirled around to face her, catching her by surprise when he pinned her against the island with his body so that he could kiss her.

She had traded his shirt for her black dress before leaving his bedroom; as his hands slid over the zip, to the small of her back, he was tempted to see if she would let him rid her of it again, but Claire could walk in on them at any minute.

"It's nice to see you smiling," she told him when they broke for air, her expression serious as she reached up to trace the curve of his mouth.

It was only because of her. He placed a reverent kiss against the tip of each finger, lacing them through his as he lifted his free hand to her jaw and kissed her again, gentler this time.

"Don't tell me you guys are _still_ at it."

At the sound of his sister's voice behind them, they sprang apart like teenagers caught making out by their parents.

"Morning, Claire," Jack greeted her as she entered the kitchen with a sleepy yawn, combing back his ruffled hair to hide his embarrassment.

Across from him, Kate cleared her throat, ironing the creases out of her skirt with her palms. "Morning," she echoed, looking every bit as awkward as he felt. All of a sudden, the apartment felt very small.

Claire settled Aaron in his car seat next to her chair. "Bacon!" she exclaimed as her eyes fell on the stove.

"That's…" Jack began, shooting Kate a helpless look, relieved that she seemed more amused than anything. "Help yourself," he finished with a sigh.

Claire picked a few of the rashers up with her fingers, dropping them onto a plate. "The walk of shame," she said, surveying Kate with a smirk as she seated herself beside her son. "That takes me back."

To his relief, she didn't elaborate. While as a doctor, he knew that the chances of Aaron being an immaculate conception were pretty slim, he still wasn't ready to think of his baby sister having sex.

"So you guys are together. I guess that means you have to meet Christian now, huh?" she prompted as she poured herself a glass of orange juice and took a sip, her blue eyes twinkling in a way that suggested she was glad that it was Kate and not her.

"We're supposed to have dinner with him and Jack's mom," Kate agreed, giving up and sitting down with her.

"You should come," Jack insisted, eager for the opportunity to take the focus off himself and Kate. "And bring Aaron."

The bitterness in Claire's tone was palpable as she said, "I bet Margo would love that – her husband's bastard daughter and her bastard son. One big happy family." She shook her head. "No, you guys go ahead."

He could tell by the violent way she attacked her bacon that she didn't want to talk about it. "So… Do you have any big romantic plans for tonight?" she asked, changing the subject.

Kate glanced at Jack and he shrugged. He was happy just taking each day as it came. All he knew was that he wanted to spend the evening with her.

"We haven't really talked about it," she confessed.

"Right," Claire agreed with a knowing grin that brought a surge of heat to the heat to his face. "Does that mean you're free to babysit?" she added in a hopeful voice.

"Why? Where will you be?" Jack asked her. It wasn't like her to go out and leave Aaron behind.

It was her turn to be embarrassed. "If you must know, I have a date."

This wasn't at all what he was expecting to hear. "With who?!" He tried to picture the men she'd introduced him to on their way in and out of the building, but he couldn't remember her showing a particular interest in any of them, and aside from the occasional outing with their father or Kate, she rarely left the apartment.

"It's just that you never mentioned a guy before…" he amended when he realised how this must sound.

"His name is Charlie," she explained. "You don't know him."

"How did you meet?" he pressed, but just then, Kate shot him a warning look.

"Jack…"

"What? I'm just trying to make sure he's right for her," he insisted. The last thing she needed was for him to take off on her too, and leave her broken-hearted.

"She's a big girl. It's up to her to make that decision," Kate reminded him, her tone firm, daring him to disagree with her.

She shifted her gaze to the car seat, reaching inside to brush his nephew's cheek. "We would love to take Aaron off your hands for the night," she told Claire, smiling when his feet kicked in response. "Wouldn't we, Jack?"

"Uh, sure," he agreed, still unhappy about the idea of her dating again so soon.

But Claire was too excited to notice. "Thank you!" she cried, throwing her arms around him, then Kate. "I don't know what I'd do without you guys!"

She frowned as a new thought occurred to her. "Oh God… What am I gunna wear?"

Before either of them could answer, she had scooped Aaron back up and raced out of the room.

A second later, Jack heard her door slam. "Hurricane Claire," he quipped, staring after her with a bemused grin.

Now that they were alone, Kate pushed her own chair back, swinging her leg over his so that she was straddling his lap. "How long until you have to be at the hospital?" she asked, sliding her arms around his neck.

"Why? What were you thinking?"

She flashed him a wicked grin to match his. "I was _thinking_, that if you've got time, maybe we should go back to my place…"

* * *

"Maybe I should call Charlie and see if we can do this some other time," Claire announced as she returned from changing her clothes for what had to be the hundredth time in less than an hour.

"Relax, Claire. He'll be fine," Kate insisted, giving Aaron a gentle bounce against her shoulder when, picking up on his mother's mood, he let out an anxious whimper. She pressed her lips against his scalp to soothe him, breathing in his milky scent.

"You like holding him, don't you?" Claire asked, stopping to watch them.

There was no sense in denying it. "Yeah, I do," Kate confessed, feeling her features soften, like they always did, as she looked back at him. "He _is_ my godson."

"He won't admit it, but Jack does too," Claire pointed out, styling Aaron's golden fuzz into a faux hawk with her fingers, her smile turning impish as she added, "Who knows? Maybe you guys will be next."

Kate loved seeing Jack with his nephew; the idea of him with a child of his own – _their_ own – filled her with an inexplicable warmth. "I think it's a little early for us to be talking about that, Claire," she reminded her. She still wasn't sure he would ever be ready to take that step. It was hard enough to get him to agree to date. "I don't even know if Jack and I will work out."

"Oh, you will," Claire assured her.

"Is that what your charts tell you?" Kate teased her, though in the back of her mind, she couldn't help thinking that it would be nice if someone could give her that kind of guarantee.

"No, just my gut," Claire explained, picking up her keys. She dropped a light kiss to the top of her son's head. "I'm never wrong about these things."

* * *

The idyllic scene Jack discovered in his living room at the end of his shift brought a smile to his face. Kate was curled in front of the TV with Aaron, rubbing his back as the infant drowsed against her, his tiny fist growing lax where it clutched the shoulder of her t-shirt. The glow of the screen illuminated the chaos of bottles and pacifiers and other baby paraphernalia that littered his coffee table, making it seem more like a home than it had in a long time.

"Hey," he murmured, stooping to graze her lips.

"Hi," she returned in the same hushed tone, the corners of her mouth twisting into a playful grin as she used his tie to pull him back down to her.

"How's our boy?" he asked her after a moment, nodding at Aaron.

"He's good," she agreed as he dropped onto the couch beside her. "He got a little fussy when Claire left but I walked him around the apartment a couple of times and he was fine." She glanced down at him with an affectionate smile, watching him lose the battle with sleep. "I think he wore himself out."

Jack didn't mean to stare, but it was moments like these that reminded him of how amazing she was; how fast he had fallen for her. He was pretty sure that he was in love with her. He just needed to find the guts to let her know.

"What?" she insisted, a hint of alarm in her voice when she caught his look.

He shook his head. "Nothing. I guess I just missed this – having something to come home to," he confessed. Meeting her had enriched his life in so many ways, not the least of all because it had given him back his faith in himself, and allowed him to start hoping again.

Her expression relaxed into a happy smile at these words. "Have you eaten?" she asked, shifting the sleeping baby so that she could push herself up. "I made a salad and there's chicken in the fridge."

"Sounds great," he told her with more enthusiasm than her suggestion warranted. He could get used to this again: the wife, the child, to being taken care of. He climbed to his feet, shrugging out of his coat and draping it over the back of the couch. "Just let me get cleaned up first."

He returned, showered and changed to find her in the kitchen, juggling a now alert Aaron in one arm, and a bottle, fresh from the microwave, in the other.

"Would you mind giving this to him so I can finish up here?" she asked, jerking her chin at the dishes she'd laid out on the bench.

"Of course not," he agreed as she handed the baby off to him, settling himself at the table with him in his arms. "Hey, buddy. You hungry?" He pushed the rubber teat between his tiny rosebud lips, laughing when he latched on right away, sucking at it as though it had been days since his last meal.

"It's hard to believe I just fed him a couple of hours ago," Kate remarked as she set a plate down in front of him.

She took Aaron back from him when he'd had enough, transferring him to his car seat so that they could both eat.

"I wonder how Claire's going?" she said after a while, cocking her head with a thoughtful expression. "I'm surprised she hasn't called."

He decided to use this as his opening. "She ever mention this Charlie guy to you?" he asked, trying not to sound too interested. They were friends: maybe Claire was more willing to talk to her about her love life.

He should have known that Kate wouldn't be fooled by his nonchalance. Of course he was dying to know. "Come on, Jack. You aren't seriously gonna start that again?" she insisted, suppressing a laugh. "She's probably just self-conscious. You weren't exactly forthcoming about _our_ relationship," she reminded him. "I can't tell you how many times I had to deal with Claire doing the same thing to me."

As much as he hated to admit it, she had him there. "Is there any way for me to win this?" he asked in mock defeat.

"Nope," she agreed, exuding smugness as she got up from her chair. "She'll tell you about him when she's ready."

To signal the end of the conversation, she collected his empty plate, carrying it over to the sink along with her own. "Now're you gonna help me with these dishes, or not? Because you know, I cooked…"

He sat watching her fill the sink in silence: the way she could never seem to keep still, except in rare moments like the one he'd witnessed with Aaron, shifting her weight from one leg to the other in impatience, the way she brushed a stray curl back for her face with her shoulder, the curve of her neck – the neck that he'd now kissed more times than he could count – as she bent over it.

It was all so familiar, so…

"Kate?"

"Yeah?" she agreed, only half paying attention.

"I… uh…" He wanted to tell her, but the words stuck in his throat, so instead what he said was, "Thank you."

She glanced back at him, flashing him a warm smile, unaware of what it was that he was really trying to communicate to her. "You're welcome."

* * *

Coming up: Dinner with the parents, Jack meets the infamous Charlie, and maybe the return of Kate's charges (and a trip to Disneyland)... ;)


	20. Chapter 20

Thanks for the reviews. An extra long chapter for you today (almost 3000 words!), comprised mostly of fluff, with a _little bit_ of angst at the beginning. And for once, I did not have to do research. ;)

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Chapter 20.

"Tell me about your parents," Kate said later that night as she waited for sleep to claim her. She shifted onto her side so that she and Jack were facing. "I mean I know your dad's the Chief of Surgery, but what's he like?"

"My father is a brilliant surgeon, but he was a lousy dad," he confessed, tracing her hipbone in lazy circles.

Was that why he was so opposed to the idea of becoming a father himself? she wondered. Because he was afraid that he would be just as lousy at it?

"He never beat me," he rushed on with a guilty expression, as if remembering who he was talking to. "He was just never around. He was a drinker too – whenever I got into a fight, or came home with less than an A, he'd just pour himself another glass of scotch so he didn't have to deal with it. Or me."

The man she'd met at the hospital was nothing like what he'd just described. She raised her arm to stroke the back of his neck, saddened by the bitterness in his tone. "Remember when I told you Wayne didn't know? About the baby?" she added in case he misunderstood her meaning.

He nodded, his hand leaving her side, falling flat against her spine in a protective gesture. He knew how hard it was for her to talk about.

"He didn't – _at first_," she explained. She swallowed hard, fighting back the wave of bile that rose in her throat at the memory. "When he started kicking me, I screamed for him to stop – that I was pregnant – and you know what he said?"

He didn't speak; she could see that he was waiting for her to get the rest of her story out, so she decided to press on, before she lost her nerve. "He said, "You'll thank me for this one day"." She squeezed her eyes shut as her voice broke, determined not to cry again. She was tired of crying over him; of holding onto her rage at what he'd done. "See, my _father_ never wanted me." At least not her biological one. He'd told her as much, years later when he insisted that if he'd had his way, her mother would have had an abortion. "I left town – moved halfway across the country – and he didn't even care enough to come find me."

When she opened them again, his dark eyes were focused on hers with a look of such tender concern that she felt the last remnants of her anger melt away. She might never be able to forgive Wayne, but at least she had something to thank him for. "Your dad loves you," she told him. "The fact that he even wants to have dinner with us proves that he's trying."

"Come here." He held his arms out to her, and she scooted into them, laying her cheek on his chest. "You're amazing, you know that?"

She felt her face split into a grin at the compliment. "If these last two nights are any indication, you're not too bad yourself," she joked, lifting her head again, eager to recapture the playfulness of earlier in the evening.

He kissed her in response, winding his fingers through her curls to keep her mouth anchored to his, and before long, they were wrapped up in each other again.

"You ever wonder how different your life would have been if you'd been raised by somebody else?" he asked as he held her afterwards.

"All the time," she agreed with a wistful smile.

"I've never been anywhere but here – America," he confessed.

This revelation took her by surprise. "Not even for your honeymoon?" It wasn't like he couldn't have afforded it if he'd wanted to; somehow she'd always pictured him taking his wife somewhere romantic… and expensive.

"We spent a couple of days in Hawaii, but then I had to go back to work. I was gonna take some time off after the divorce – go somewhere far away from everything – but then Claire showed up on my doorstep…"

His expression grew troubled again. "I've been cleaning up his messes my whole life."

"I've never been to Disneyland," she told him, while they were comparing childhood scars. "My mom was saving so we could come out here, but Wayne found the money and spent it all on booze."

"Must've been some bender," he quipped. He hesitated a moment, then admitted, "I've never been either."

Now she was really shocked. "You're kidding?" she insisted, even though she could see that he wasn't. "You're telling me you've lived in Southern California your whole life and you've never been to Disneyland?" His parents were loaded: what was their excuse?

"My dad could never get the time off work," he explained with a shrug that she knew from experience was meant to mask something else. Disappointment. "At least that's what he always said."

"Why didn't you go yourself?" she asked him. He'd had twenty years.

"I never thought about it."

Something in his voice told her that this wasn't the case. She smiled as an idea occurred to her. "We should go!"

He laughed, as though he was having trouble deciding whether or not she was being serious. "Disneyland is for kids, Kate."

"So we'll bring Jayden and Sophie," she insisted, warming to the plan. "They'll love it!"

He still didn't look convinced, so she decided that a little emotional blackmail was in order. After all, it was for his own good. "You don't want them to miss out too, do you?"

"Isn't that what their mom is for?" he pointed out, but she'd made up her mind. She shot him a Look, and he made a show of letting out a theatrical sigh. "I guess we're going to Disneyland," he agreed.

* * *

"Admit it – you're excited," she teased him as they approached the turnstiles, her pushing Sophie's stroller while he led Jayden along by the hand beside her.

She was still amazed by the impression that he'd left on the little boy; without a male parent – or even prospective parent – to look up to, he seemed to have adopted Jack as a kind of honorary father figure. First, he wanted him to help him get dressed, then he insisted on holding his hand as they crossed the car park, and he still hadn't let go.

"I'm thirty-seven years old, Kate," Jack reminded her, as though this was an affront to his dignity, but she could see that he was trying hard not to smile. "I'm not excited."

"You're older than my grandma!" Jayden announced, joining the conversation, and Kate almost choked on the coffee she was nursing.

"Really? How old is she?" she asked him as Jack struggled to look offended.

He considered this for a moment. "As old as the dinosaurs," he told her, and this time, she couldn't contain her laughter.

"Relax," she whispered to Jack, taking her hand off the handle and moving it to his jaw so that she could kiss his check. "This is meant to be fun."

"Easy for you to say," he complained. "You didn't just get compared to a dinosaur."

"You're not old," she assured him, letting her eyes wander down over him with a wicked grin. "Trust me."

He seemed satisfied with her appraisal, so she turned back to Jayden. "What d'we wanna do first?" she asked him. She'd spent the last few days showing him pictures on the website, preparing him for their trip.

"Nemo!" he cried, hopping up and down as she reached into Sophie's diaper bag for their tickets.

"How did I know you were gonna say that?" she told him, giving his hair a playful scruff. "Soph?"

"Nemo!" she chirped, echoing her brother, though Kate doubted she had any idea what she was agreeing too.

"What's Nemo?" Jack asked, looking apprehensive, as though he were anticipating something akin to waterboarding.

"First _SpongeBob_, now _Nemo_?" she teased him as she handed the tickets over to be scanned. "You have a lot to learn, my friend."

* * *

Hours later, Jack was learning. He now knew all about Nemo and Star Command and _A Bug's Life_.

He also knew that not all children liked Mickey Mouse after Sophie threw a fit when he tried to pat her on the head, and that it hadn't been the smartest idea to wear brand new sneakers after Jayden dragged them onto the spinning tea cups and then threw cotton candy up all over his shoes.

But despite tantrums and kid vomit, he was enjoying the day more than he'd expected to. There was something about the little boy's innocent enthusiasm that made the park seem almost magical and he was glad that Kate had suggested bringing them along.

"Where to next?" he asked him as they fed them burgers out on the deck of one of the restaurants, watching the ducks paddle by, fishing for crumbs. He glanced out across the water, to the island playground they were yet to visit. "The Pirates' Lair?"

But Jayden shook his head. "I wanna go on the big slide!" he argued, turning to point towards a huge fibreglass formation.

"You wanna go on that one?" Jack asked him in what he was sure must be a sceptical tone. "Splash Mountain?"

The little boy responded with a vigorous nod. "Yeah!"

"I don't know, buddy," he told him, catching Kate's eye to see what she thought. "It looks a little big for Sophie." So far they'd spent most of their time in Fantasyland, where all of the toddler-appropriate rides were.

"It's okay," she agreed. "One of us'll just have to sit it out."

Jack wasn't really wild about the idea of getting soaked and then having to spend the afternoon in chaffing wet jeans. "You go," he told her. "I'll stay with her."

"Are you sure?" she checked, hesitating while Jayden tugged at her hand.

"Absolutely," he agreed with a smile, trying not to sound too eager.

He should have known that she would figure it out. "Don't tell me you're scared of a little drop?" she teased him.

_Wary_, was a better word for it. "You call that 'little'? It's gotta be at least fifty feet." He didn't want to think about what would happen to anyone who fell out. They'd probably land in his OR with a shattered spinal column… or worse.

"You can hold someone's life in the palm of your hand but you baulk at a _children's log ride_?" she insisted with an incredulous frown. She allowed the little boy to pull her up from her chair. "What're we gonna do with him, Jay?"

He watched them walk away towards the line before returning his gaze to the toddler in front of him. She was drinking apple juice from a pink Sippy cup, staring at him from beneath her thick lashes, waiting for him to do… something.

"What am I gonna do with _you_?" he wondered out loud. He had no idea how he was supposed to entertain her without Kate. She was the one with all the instincts.

Sophie took the cup out of her mouth to smile at him, before replacing it. When she was finished, she held it out to him with both hands. "More!"

He refilled it with the last of the juice. "I don't suppose you can say 'Thank you'?" he asked with a wry smile as he passed it back to her.

She babbled something that sounded more like "Feh yo" and gulped it down in record time. "More!"

"I think that's it," he told her, showing her the empty bottle. How would Kate put it? "All gone."

"Al ga," she repeated, looking down at her own cup with a solemn expression.

"Gone," he articulated.

"Gaw," she tried again, mimicking him.

"Close enough," he agreed with a soft chuckle.

"Al ga!"

Before he caught on to what she was about to do, she had tossed her cup out of the stroller, flashing her tiny white teeth at him as she watched it roll across the planks.

"Hey!" He bent to retrieve it before it rolled off the platform, into the river, tucking it into the diaper bag for safekeeping.

She must be bored, he decided. "How about we go for a walk?" he suggested, releasing the brake.

He pushed her out of the restaurant, back onto the path, taking the scenic route to kill time.

When they reached the fence, he unbuckled her, lifting her against the railing so that she could watch the people coming out. "Kate and Jayden are in one of those little boats," he explained, keeping one arm firm around her middle as he pointed to the top of the mountain.

"Jay!" she cried, pointing after him as an Asian family plunged down the waterfall.

"Not that one," he told her.

"Jay!" she repeated, no less enthusiastic, as another boat crested the hill.

He decided not to waste his breath any more after that. "That's right," he agreed. At least it would be eventually.

When it was their turn, he could just make out the little boy's terrified expression. Kate, however, seemed to be having the time of her life.

"There he is," Jack announced, lowering her to the ground when they appeared, drenched and laughing, a few minutes later. He offered Jayden a high five. "Good job!"

The little boy beamed. "I wasn't scared at all, was I, Kate?"

"He was very brave," she agreed with a smile, signalling to Jack over his head that this wasn't entirely true when his attention was pulled away from them by the "pirate" ship.

"What about you? Were you brave?" Jack teased her as she strapped Sophie back in so that they could keep moving.

"She screamed, but I didn't scream," Jayden supplied.

"You screamed?" Jack asked her.

"So? Lots of people do," she complained. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," he assured her. "I just wouldn't have had you picked you for such a… girl."

She gaped at him in mock outrage, jabbing him in the side with her elbow. As she did, her ponytail slapped against him, leaving at trail of water across the back of his shirt.

"Whoa!" he cried, backing away from her with his hands up in surrender. "Just because _you're_ all wet…"

That was when Jayden decided to get in on the act, hugging him around the legs and pressing his damp body up against him.

"You started it," Kate reminded him with a shrug when he shot her a helpless look, but she clapped to get the little boy's attention. "Okay, kiddo – that's enough. Let's go see if we can find some buried treasure." She took the handles of Sophie's stroller and they set off again, towards the dock.

Even though they'd called a truce, he couldn't help noticing the deliberate way she veered just a few inches off course, brushing her clothes against him as they walked. "I thought you said that was enough?" he reminded her when she pulled the band from her hair and shook it out just a little too hard, spraying him with droplets of water.

He wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd laughed like that, but he knew it was a while. Being with her gave him permission to live in the moment and start enjoying the simple pleasures he'd long denied himself: something he thought he'd forgotten how to do until now. She deserved to hear it and so much more.

"Kate?" he said, clearing his throat when Jayden ran ahead of them, to where the raft was waiting.

"I know. This was a great idea, right?" she finished for him, watching the little boy fly across the pavement with a smile. "Look at him – he's having so much fun."

She was giving him an out. All he had to do was agree with her. "That's not what I wanted to say," he told her, before he could chicken out again. This was it: his moment. He didn't know when he would get another one this perfect. He caught her hand in his as she stopped, pulling her around to face him. "I love you."

Her lips parted as she expelled a small gasp of surprise. "Did you just…?"

"I love you," he repeated, surprised at how much easier it was the second time. "I've been trying to tell you, but I guess I was afraid…" He wasn't sure what of exactly, but he realised how crazy it was when she rewarded him with a tearful grin, grazing his lips in a quick kiss as she threw her arms around his neck.

"I love you too," she whispered.

* * *

Jack with a toddler. That was pretty shameless. But who doesn't melt at the thought?

Next chapter: Dinner with the Shephards... ;)


	21. Chapter 21

Thanks for the reviews. I'm not sure if you can tell, but this fic is nearing it's end -- my guess is somewhere between chapters 25 and 30. ;)

* * *

Chapter 21.

"What d'you think?" Kate asked Jack, studying her reflection in the full-length mirror inside her closet. She smoothed the dark pencil skirt over her hips.

"I think you'll get the job," he teased her from where he sat on the end of her bed.

"Okay, then – what do you think I should wear?" she complained, peeling off the blue silk shirt she saved for special occasions and tossing it into the pile with the rest of her clothes. She stepped out of her skirt, not realising what a mistake this was until his eyes locked on her body, hidden only by the lacy fabric of her underwear, and the corners of his lips curled up into a smirk. "I'm not going to your parents' house naked, Jack," she insisted, rolling her eyes and giving him a playful shove as she threw her cotton robe over the top of it and sank onto the edge of the mattress beside him.

"I think you should just be yourself," he told her, his mood turning serious, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him.

Easy for you to say, she thought, fingering the buttons of his maroon dress shirt. He could just wear what he usually wore to work or on dates and no one would think any less of him. She settled deeper into his embrace, letting her head fall to his shoulder. "I just want them to like me." Tom's parents had never approved of her or her family, but now, with Wayne out of the picture, she hoped things would be different this time around.

"I know some of the things I said the other night were a little… _harsh_," he agreed, rubbing her bicep, "but you were right – my dad loves me." He squeezed her shoulder, drawing her tighter against him, pressing his lips to her hair, which was still damp from the shower. "And when he sees how happy you make me, he's gonna love you too…"

* * *

"Are you sure you don't wanna come with us, Claire?" Jack asked when he and Kate stopped by his apartment to say goodbye. They were due at his parents' house in half an hour, but if she hurried, she could still change and get Aaron ready in time.

"I just don't think I'm ready to face your mum yet," she confessed, and he was almost relieved, until she added, "Besides, I have plans. Charlie's coming over."

What was it with her and this Charlie guy? He still didn't know anything about him besides his name. What if he was some kind of deviant? Was that really someone he wanted alone with her and Aaron? He opened his mouth to protest, but Kate cut him off before he could finish.

"Then we should probably clear out," she announced, pushing him towards the door. "Have fun."

"We will," Claire called after them.

He definitely didn't like the sound of _that_. "But—"

"But nothing, Jack," Kate warned him once they were standing out in the hall. She raised herself onto her toes so that her face was almost level with his, punctuating her words with short, tantalising kisses. "Let… your sister… enjoy… her date…"

"Or…?" he asked her, resting his hands on her sides; he slipped his thumbs beneath the waistband of her jeans, intending to tease her a little too.

"_Or_," she repeated with a coquettish smile, sliding her palm down his chest, "I might not feel like coming home with you tonight." She stopped when she reached his pants, withdrawing her hand abruptly.

He was afraid that her threat would be something like that. "You're good," he told her with more than a hint of admiration.

"I know," she agreed as she turned and made her way to the lift.

* * *

Kate was grateful for Jack's hand around hers as he led her up the drive of his parents' sprawling two-storey manor and rang the bell. She hated that she was so nervous when they were both adults, so it shouldn't matter, but she knew how much his father's approval meant to him and she wanted to make a good impression.

"Mom, this is Kate," he said when a woman with the same dark hair and rich brown eyes opened the door. She could see what Claire meant when she'd said that he took after his mother: she was beautiful in a carefully polished sort of way.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Mrs Shephard," she greeted her.

"Come in," was all Margo said in response, stepping aside so that they could enter.

Kate was taken aback by her coolness, but she forced herself to smile as she looked around at the place Jack had grown up. "You have a lovely home." She snuck a glance at her navy jeans and emerald green top – usually one of her favourite outfits – and was afraid that she was way underdressed.

"Thank you," Margo told her stiffly as Jack helped her out of her coat and hung it in the closet with his own.

If there was one thing Kate's mother had taught her, it was never to show up for dinner empty-handed. "I wasn't sure if you wanted us to bring anything, so…" She held the plate she was cradling like an infant out as a kind of peace offering.

"What is it?" Margo asked, staring at it as if she'd never seen a cake before.

"Just a new recipe I decided to try out." She'd agonised over what to bake before settling on one from her mother's cookbook. "Banana and almond."

She couldn't tell how well her gesture had gone over. "You didn't have to do that," Margo told her with the same neutral expression, and Kate wondered if the subtext behind it was that she really shouldn't have. "Jack, why don't you take Kate through to the sitting room while I put this in the kitchen?"

"She hates me," Kate complained as soon as they were out of earshot. She'd imagined his mother being a lot more impressed by her thoughtfulness.

"She doesn't _hate_ you," Jack insisted, stepping up close behind her to knead her shoulders. He kissed the side of her neck. "She just doesn't know you yet."

As much as she wanted to believe him, she knew that he was only saying it to be supportive. "She hates me," she repeated, leaning back against him, giving in to her self-pity for moment before composing herself and following him through to where his father was waiting.

He was sitting in stuffed wingback chair that she was sure must have cost as much as her entire living room suite. "You remember Kate, Dad?" Jack said once they'd exchanged awkward hugs.

"Of course," his father agreed. "Good to see you again."

"You too, Dr Shephard," she told him, relieved that he, at least, seemed willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Call me Christian." He crossed the room to a carved wooden liquor cabinet. "Now what'll it be? We've got beer, wine, spirits…"

"Your dad is my hero," Kate whispered to Jack as they watched him pull out an array of glass bottles.

A low chuckle escaped his throat. "Scotch on the rocks for me," he told his father, glancing at her, "and Kate will have…"

"Wine. Lots and lots of wine," she added to him under her breath.

* * *

"So, you never told us how you two met," Christian reminded them once they were all seated with their drinks.

"Jack and I live in the same apartment building," Kate explained. "Claire—" She froze when she felt the tension in the room increase.

She sighed inwardly when Margo pursed her lips and her frown deepened.

"Kate was new to the area, so I offered to show her around," Jack continued, fixing her with a reassuring smile when she turned to stare at him in surprise. In a few words, he'd managed to gloss over the entire first month of their relationship, making it seem as the whole thing had been his idea. "And the rest is history."

It was as if Claire didn't exist; sneaking a furtive glance at Jack's mother, watching her expression relax, it occurred to Kate that in this house, at least, she probably didn't. No wonder the invitation had made her so uncomfortable: it was unlikely that she _or_ Aaron would be welcomed into their family with open arms.

Kate was forced to let it go when Margo changed the subject. "Jack said you're a teacher?"

A quick glance at Jack told her that he was as puzzled by her mistake as Kate was. "There's some teaching involved," she agreed, "but I work with kids in their homes mostly, on a more… ah… _casual _basis."

"Like a babysitter?" Margo supplied.

"Actually, I'm a nanny," Kate corrected her, flustered by her obvious disdain for the profession.

"Jayden and Sophie are both great kids," Jack said, coming to her rescue. He picked up her hand, massaging the back of her palm with his thumb. "She's doing an amazing job with them."

This interested Margo enough to pull her attention away from Kate. "You've met them?"

"We took them to Disneyland last week," he agreed. "Sophie – she's one and a half – was scared of all of the characters except Captain Hook." He lit up at the memory, and Kate couldn't help grinning too. He was so sweet with her.

"I think I have a picture of him holding her..." he said, taking out his cell and flipping thorough the menu until an image of the costumed pirate crouching with Sophie on his knee filled the screen. "There."

He handed the phone over so that they could see it. "She's cute, isn't she?" he said, like a proud father, and even Margo managed a genuine smile.

"Looks like you had a good time," Christian remarked as he scrolled through the rest of their pictures.

Kate knew them almost by heart: her favourite was one a passing tourist had taken of the four of them in front of the castle, because the first time she'd seen it, she'd thought they looked like they could be a real family. Even Rebecca had teased them about it when they showed them to her later that night.

She caught Jack's eye as he returned his cell to his pocket, and to her surprise, he leant in, cupping her cheek to steal an impulsive kiss, his gaze holding hers as he agreed, "We did."

* * *

"Spit it out, Mom," Jack hissed when he found himself alone in the kitchen with her. Kate had excused herself to go to the bathroom, giving him a brief opening; he wanted to get the shouting match over and done with before she came back.

"Spit what out?" his mother asked, continuing to wash up, as if she hadn't just spent the last few hours making his girlfriend squirm.

"Whatever's on your mind," he demanded. He was tired of trying to guess what she was thinking and he could tell that Kate was too. "What is it about Kate that makes it so hard for you to accept that I'm in a relationship with her? Is it because she doesn't make enough money for us? Or because she's the help?"

His mother was silent for a long moment. "I just don't want to see you get hurt again," she confessed, finally putting her cloth down, her quiet tone catching him off guard.

He was so busy bracing himself for a fight that he hadn't stopped to consider that her concern might be about him. "That's it?" he pressed. "That's all you're worried about?"

"There's no 'all' about it, Jack," she insisted. "When Sarah left you… You barely survived."

He didn't need to hear her recount it to remember what a mess he had been. He was angry at himself and her and anyone else who got in his way, and so bitter that he doubted he would ever trust another woman again; it wasn't until Claire came into his life that he was able to pull himself together enough to be there for her and Aaron.

"And now you're finally getting back to your old self—"

"_Because_ of Kate," he argued. She was the reason he'd stopped dragging himself out of bed in the mornings. "Because she makes me happy." It was all because of her, not in spite of her: because being with her made him feel like he _was_ worthy of love.

"She's nothing like Sarah, Mom." It was hard to imagine her walking out on him after everything he'd confided in her.

Still, his mother didn't look convinced. "I hope, for your sake, that you're right…"

* * *

Next chapter(s): Jack and Charlie finally meet, Christian reveals what he thinks of Kate, Claire makes a decision about her and Aaron's living arrangments, and Jack and Kate contemplate the future of their relationship with surprising results... ;)


	22. Chapter 22

Thanks for the reviews. ;)

* * *

Chapter 22.

Jack started awake at the persistent beeping that filled his bedroom.

"What time is it?" Kate murmured, stirring beside him, bringing a hand up to shield her eyes when he reached across her to switch on the lamp.

He squinted at the glowing red numerals on his alarm clock. "It's a little after six," he said, picking his pager up off the nightstand. He was supposed to have the day off, but as always, whoever was trying to reach him didn't seem to care about that.

She let out a faint groan on hearing how early it was. "Just ignore it," she complained, settling back into his chest and replacing his arm around her.

The idea of spending a lazy Sunday morning in bed with her was tempting, but as much as he wished he could stay there and just hold her, and get up when it was actually light outside, he wasn't sure he wanted that on his conscience if the patient died. "I can't – it's the hospital," he told her, lifting the curls from the nape of her neck so that he could kiss it, then her shoulder blade, as he sat up. "But you should go back to sleep."

This time, she didn't answer.

When he glanced down at her face, to gauge her reaction, he saw that she already had; pressing his lips to her shoulder, he slid out of bed and padded down the hall to the bathroom.

He figured that if he hurried, he still had time for a quick shower to wake himself up before going in. "Claire?" he called, tapping on the door. "Are you almost done?"

On cue, he heard the water stop.

"Jack?" He spun around at the sound of his sister's voice behind him, confused to see her standing there in her night shirt, holding a bundle of clothes. "Who're you talking to?"

All of a sudden, he wasn't sure. If Kate was still asleep, and Claire was out here… "Who's in there?" he whispered. Then it hit him. _Charlie_. "He stayed over?!"

"Kate stays over all the time," she reminded him, eyeing his bare chest with a smirk. She glanced down the hall at his closed door. "Don't tell me you didn't bring her back here with you?"

She was right: it was weeks since he and Kate had spent a night apart. He could feel a warm flush creeping into his cheeks but he did his best to look stern. "That's different," he insisted. For one thing, it was his apartment. But since he wasn't her father, he seized on the first reasonable excuse he could think of. "I didn't just have a baby." The last thing she needed was to get pregnant again, especially to another guy who wasn't going to stick around.

He could see that she was enjoying watching him squirm. "You can relax, Jack. Nothing happened," she assured him, rolling her eyes. "It was late, so I said Charlie could sleep here."

He wasn't sure he believed her until the bathroom door swung open, and a short man with ruffled blonde hair stepped out wearing only a towel. "Wait just a minute there, Claire – have you forgotten that I've got a reputation to uphold?" he quipped in a thick British accent, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Charlie's a musician," Claire explained for Jack's benefit. She handed Charlie the freshly laundered clothes she was holding. "Jack, this is Charlie. Charlie, this is my brother, Jack."

"I feel like we already know each other," Charlie said as he took them. "Claire's told me a lot about you."

Jack wasn't sure he liked the sound of that.

"And this must be Kate."

He turned to see her stumble out of his room, the bottoms of her pyjama pants dragging along the carpet in her wake. "Lemme guess – Charlie, right?" she said, blinking at the newcomer. She stopped at Jack's side, tilting her face up to his for a good morning kiss.

"Beauty _and_ brains," Charlie teased her, adding to Jack, in a conspiratorial whisper, "I see why you fell for her."

Trust Claire to gossip about his love life and her part in it; he tried to catch her eye, but she was too busy holding a silent exchange with Kate to return his look. He was mystified as to what was being said, but the upshot seemed to be that Kate was as charmed by the British musician as his sister was.

He made a point of checking his watch. "As much as I would love to stay and do this now, I have to get to the hospital," he announced. He was already running behind; the shower would have to wait until he got home. Maybe he could even convince Kate to join him.

"No problem," Charlie said, too amiable to be offended by his hasty exit. It made it harder for Jack to remain suspicious of him. "I'll see you around, yeah?"

"Yeah," he agreed with a weak smile, heading back to his own room to change.

It wasn't until he went to close the door and found that it was already shut that he realised Kate had followed him. "What?" he insisted, feigning innocence as he took a hanger from his closet and began to get dressed.

"You know, your eyes aren't the only thing you got from your mother," she remarked, circling the bed until she was standing, arms folded, in front of him.

"What does my mother have to do with this?" he asked her, bending to watch himself fasten his tie.

He couldn't help cracking a smile when his eyes found hers in the mirror and she arched her eyebrow in a look of incredulity. "Okay, fine – maybe I was a little rude," he agreed.

"A little?" she repeated, the scepticism in her tone not lost on him. "Jack."

He stopped what he was doing, using his hands to pull her against him instead. "Just tell me what I can do to make it up to you," he murmured, determined to worm his way back into her good graces by any means necessary… even if it meant being late.

_Especially_ if it meant being late.

"You can invite Charlie over for dinner tonight," she told him as she finished knotting his tie.

He was hoping for something a little more _fun_. "Kate," he complained, resting his head against hers.

"You _owe_ me," she reminded him, her firm expression reminding him the one she got when she was talking to Jayden sometimes. She offered him a brief consolation peck and then pushed him away. "Now go."

He sighed, scratching the back of his head. "Yes, M'am," he teased her.

"Charlie?" he called when they returned to the hall.

The British man emerged from the bathroom in fitted jeans and a brown t-shirt this time. "Yeah?"

"Dinner," Jack told him, glancing at Kate, who gave him an encouraging smile. "Eight o'clock…"

* * *

While Jack wanted to believe that his harshness was justified, he found himself developing a begrudging respect for Charlie that night as the four of them sat around his kitchen table, eating Chinese take out.

He couldn't think of a time when he'd seen Claire laugh as hard as she did as he regaled them with stories of his adventures as a struggling rock star in England, and if Jack was honest with himself, he was better with Aaron than he ever could have imagined. Anyone who didn't know them might have mistaken him for the baby's father, the way he rushed to pick him up whenever he cried, singing eighties pop songs to him and chatting about whatever came to mind.

After the year she'd just had, his sister deserved something good; he felt guilty for trying to get in the way of that when she was responsible for bringing so much joy into his own life.

"He really cares about her," Kate said after they'd left them alone in the living room, watching a movie, and crossed the hall to her apartment for the night.

"Okay, I admit it," he agreed, raising his hands in mock surrender. "You were right." She was almost always right: at least when it came to Claire. He wasn't sure how they'd managed for so long without her.

All he did know was that he never wanted to have to do it again. That was the one thing his mother _hadn't_ been wrong about: he couldn't survive it.

"I love you," he blurted out, struggling to keep his emotions inside. It scared him, how much he'd come to depend on her in such a short time. Every hope, every dream, every fear he had for the future now was about her.

"That's good, because I love you too," she returned, but he could see that she was taken back by the dramatic change in his mood. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," he assured her, picking her hands up in each of his. "I just don't know if I tell you that enough." There was that day at Disneyland, with the kids, but had he said it since then? He couldn't remember.

Her concerned expression relaxed back into a playful grin. "If I agree, will you say it again?" she teased him, taking an inviting step towards him.

"I love you," was all he said by way of an answer, enjoying the way the words sounded in his mouth as he brought it down to meet hers. He didn't think they would ever be enough, so he let his body finish the thought, releasing her just long enough to lift her against him.

She wrapped her legs around him to steady herself without breaking the kiss, her hands in his hair, and all of a sudden, he couldn't wait to get her into the bedroom, to show her how much. "I love you," he murmured, burying his face in the soft skin of her throat when they finally separated for air. Tomorrow, he'd ignore his pager. "I love you…"

* * *

Next chapter: Jack talks to Christian about Kate, and Kate worries about the future... ;)


	23. Chapter 23

Thanks for the reviews. I'm glad you all liked the fluff, because after 22 chapters without any real angst, I thought it was about time I introduced some... ;)

* * *

Chapter 23.

Jack was sitting at his desk, filling out a report for the lumbar disc replacement he'd performed on a patient that morning when his father paused outside the door to his office.

Kate had framed one of the snapshots they'd taken at Disneyland – the only one they had of the two of them without the kids – and he'd put it on his desk to remind himself not to get caught up in his work; he would find himself staring at it whenever he was stuck doing paperwork, flashing back to that day and how good it felt to stand in the sun with her arms around him.

Now he watched his father pick it up, studying at it with a mild expression. "Cute picture," he remarked.

"Something tells me you didn't come here to say that," Jack replied, replacing it beside his extension when he handed it back to him.

"You haven't been over to the house in a while," his father pointed out, finally clueing him in to the purpose of his visit. "I just wanted to check in, see how you were doing."

"I'm great," he assured him. "Never better." He wondered if he was going to accuse him of dropping the ball now that he was taking off at six or seven most evenings.

"And Kate?"

Kate. The answer to that was less straightforward. He'd noticed that some of her behaviour seemed distant over the past few days, but since they weren't fighting, and he didn't know of any reason why she would be mad at him, he figured that whatever it was, it was unrelated to them.

In fact, now that he thought about it, she had been acting a little hormonal. Not quite PMSing, but not her usual playful self either. "She's great too," he agreed, reluctant to get into any of this with his father.

He put his pen down and sat back in his chair. "You know, you never told me what you thought of her," he reminded him.

"She's a little different to your usual type," his father allowed, "but she's a lovely girl, Jack. Smart. Pretty."

It was as close as he could get to giving him a compliment. "I think I'm gonna ask her to marry me," Jack confessed. He'd done nothing _but_ think about it in the weeks since the dinner at his parents' house, and how amazing it would be to have her to come home to every night.

He heard his father draw in a sharp breath. "When?" he asked.

That was the part that Jack was having trouble deciding on. His one and only attempt at taking her out on a formal date had been a disaster. Elaborate and romantic just didn't suit them: that was why he wanted to do something more casual and intimate, but that she would always remember. "Soon."

At least as soon he worked out the details. He'd never been very adept at making those kinds of grandiose gestures. It was hard enough for him to admit his feelings.

Jack could see that his father was less than impressed, and in hindsight, he realised how naïve it was to think that he would be supportive. "I know how badly you want to prove that what happened with Sarah wasn't your fault," he said in a careful tone, "but do you honestly believe that rushing into another marriage is the way to do it? What's wrong with just dating?"

So far, they hadn't done a very good job of that. In fact, they were practically married already. When they weren't at work, they were at one of the other's apartments: he doubted that he and Sarah had spent that much time together the entire first two years of their relationship. He had to believe that that boded better for them.

"I'm not 'rushing' into anything, Dad," he insisted. He loved Kate: he loved sleeping beside her and waking up with her the next morning; he loved touching her and talking to her and making love with her. She was the first person he wanted to see when he lost a patient or he'd just had a bad day. He didn't need to wait a year or two to be sure that that was what he wanted for the rest of his life.

* * *

"So you'll never guess what happened to me today," Claire announced, bursting into Kate's kitchen on her heels.

"Hey, Claire," Kate greeted her, dumping the armload of groceries she was struggling with on the island. What she wanted right now was a long, hot bath and a glass of wine… although maybe that wasn't the best idea under the circumstances.

"Aren't you gunna say hi to Aaron?" Claire teased, holding him out to her. "Usually you can't wait to get your hands on him."

For once, she wasn't in the mood to fuss over him, but she accepted him with a weak smile, cradling him in one arm as she fumbled to unpack with her free hand. "Sorry, I guess I'm just a little distracted."

Instead of taking the hint, Claire sprang into action. "Here, let me help you with that," she offered, opening one of the bags before Kate could protest.

A moment later she froze, glancing up at her with a quizzical look, her eyes wide as she pulled out an unmistakable blue box. "Does Jack know?"

She wasn't supposed to see that. Kate felt herself tense up as she handed Aaron back to her. "No," she confessed. She'd debated telling him before deciding that it was better to keep her suspicions to herself for the time being. "I wanted to be sure before I mentioned it to him."

Claire had worked so hard to get them together that she expected her to start planning her baby shower, and subsequent wedding; she was surprised when all she said was, "Wanna talk about it?" in a sympathetic tone that bore little resemblance to her usual gushing.

The last thing Kate needed was to hear how great it was when she wasn't so sure of that herself. She shook her head, but Claire settled Aaron on his back on the rug and joined her on the couch.

"You know, I really thought we were being careful," Kate told her, bracing her elbows on her knees and dropping her head into her hands.

"So did I," Claire admitted and Kate was confused, until she followed her gaze to her son and realised that she wasn't talking about her and Jack.

"But you wanna be a mum, right?" she continued. "I mean, I've seen the way you are around Aaron…"

Kate watched him suck on his fist as he turned his head from side to side, taking everything in, feeling her own expression soften into a smile. She'd dreamed of having a baby – a family – of her own for as long as she could remember. "It's not about me." She'd been ready for this for ten years.

"Jack?" Claire asked, sounding surprised.

"Every time the subject comes up, he closes off," she agreed. She'd tried not to read too much into it – believing that his attitude would change once he got to know his nephew – but it was hard when it might not be hypothetical anymore. "He keeps saying he doesn't think he's 'cut out' to be a father – whatever that means."

"Jack isn't like Thomas, Kate," Claire said gently, looking down at her son again. "He didn't even know me and he offered to take care of me and Aaron. He would never walk out on you _or_ his child."

It was the first time Kate had ever heard her talk about Aaron's father or what happened to him; she felt guilty for forcing her to dredge up the past, and for being so anxious when she knew she was right. Jack just wasn't the type to abandon her over something like this.

"That's what scares me," she told her. They were supposed to make this decision together. She didn't want him to think she'd gone ahead and chosen this without him.

"Well, maybe you're not even pregnant," Claire suggested. "It could go either way, right?"

"I'm late," she insisted. The last time that had happened was when she was eighteen.

She was pregnant. What else could it be?

"That's why you should just suck it up and take the test," Claire told her, patting her knee. "You're not gunna be able to stop thinking about it 'til you do. Trust me."

She had a point: Kate was so preoccupied with her fear that she'd let Jayden stay inside and watch TV for most of the day while she played out different scenarios in her head. It wasn't like her to be so dismissive of him or Sophie. She wasn't sure how much longer she could live in suspense.

She pushed herself to her feet and went to retrieve the box from the kitchen, determined to get it over and done with. She hadn't had any other symptoms, so there was a good chance that she wasn't pregnant: especially when she'd been on the pill the whole time. And if she was…

Well, she would cross that bridge when she came to it.

"I know I'm not Jack, but I can sit with you if you like," Claire offered when she returned from the bathroom.

She could feel her confidence beginning to wane again as she set the test down on the coffee table between them. "Thanks," she told her with a grateful smile, taking her place beside her to wait it out.

As the seconds ticked by, she felt sick to her stomach with a mixture of fear and excitement. She didn't want to be hopeful, but as she thought of Jack and Jayden sitting on the couch watching _SpongeBob_ with matching looks of concentration, she couldn't help wishing for more moments like that. The day they'd spent at Disneyland together was easily one of the best of her life.

"You know, I could see Jack with a son," Claire said, breaking the silence. "He's so good with Aaron."

"Yeah," Kate agreed with a feint smile. "He is."

But she could also see him with a daughter, she decided, remembering the way he'd admired the picture of Sophie before showing it to his parents. Maybe having a little girl like her, with soft brown eyes and a head full of curls, would melt his resistance to the idea fatherhood. If she _was_ pregnant, it didn't have to be the end of the world. It might even work itself out for the best.

She was so busy entertaining this fantasy that she almost forgot why they were there. "Kate?" Claire called softly when three minutes were up. She turned the stick so that the little minus sign was pointed towards her. "It's negative."

For a moment, all Kate could do was stare at it, sure that her eyes must be deceiving her, and then she expelled a breath that came out sounding more like a sigh. "Thank God," she agreed, kicking herself for getting so worked up as went back into the kitchen and dropped it into the trashcan under the sink.

"So what was your news?" she asked Claire, eager for something to take her mind off of it as she washed her hands and wiped them on a clean dishcloth.

At least she knew that it was safe to drink coffee again, she thought, shoving the percolator under the tap. She'd spent the last few days avoiding it, just in case, but she could really do with some now.

"I got a job," Claire explained, beaming at her as she scooped her son back up and parked herself on one of the stools. "It's minimum wage – just night and weekend work – but it's a start."

"That's great," Kate told her, forcing a smile onto her face.

"I'm glad you think so," Claire said, "because I was hoping you and Jack could watch Aaron for me."

"Sure. You know we're always happy to," she agreed, doing her best to sound normal. But as her eyes strayed to the baby in Claire's arms, she found herself struggling to hold back her tears. She hadn't wanted to be pregnant, so why was she so disappointed?

* * *

Next chapter: Jack and Kate discuss her pregnancy scare, and what it means for their relationship... ;)


	24. Chapter 24

Thanks for the reviews. If you didn't hate me for bypassing the Jaby route (at least for the moment), you're probably going to hate me after reading this chapter -- I wanted to use the pregnancy scare as a way of highlighting a serious issue that Jack and Kate have been ignoring for a while now. ;)

* * *

Chapter 24.

"_I know how badly you want to prove that what happened with Sarah wasn't your fault, but do you honestly believe that rushing into another marriage is the way to do it? What's wrong with just dating?"_

Jack drove home from the hospital after his shift with his father's words still echoing inside his head. It was true that he'd only known Kate a few months, but there was something about being with her that just felt so right. Until he met her, he hadn't been able to see himself ever wanting to get married again. In fact, he'd almost managed to convince himself that he liked being single, because he didn't have to feel guilty about the hours he kept like he had when he was with Sarah.

Claire and Aaron had been spending more and more time at Charlie's since he'd stopped voicing his objection to their relationship, which was good because he was looking forward to a quiet night alone with her. It was his turn to cook, so since he was better with a scalpel than a saucepan, he made a quick detour to the Chinese restaurant they always ordered out from.

She usually stopped by around five to check in on Claire and Aaron and hung around until he got home from work; when he went to open the door, he was surprised to discover that it was locked, the interior dark and empty. She hadn't said anything about Rebecca asking her to stay longer, so figuring that she must have decided to wait for him in her own apartment, he put the bags down in the kitchen and went across the hall.

He found her lying on her back on the couch, a book propped open against her thighs, though she didn't appear to be reading it. Instead, she was staring at a stain on the rug, so deep in thought that she didn't seem to hear him come in.

"Hey," he said, to get her attention. "I thought you were gonna come over to my place tonight?"

She started at the sound of his voice, shifting her gaze back to the page in front of her. "Why does it always have to be your place?" she asked with surprising defensiveness.

She'd never seemed to mind before. She loved chatting to Claire and playing with Aaron… At least he thought she did. He studied her for a long moment, noting for the first time how red-rimmed her eyes were. "Kate? Have you…? Are you crying?" he asked.

She ran the back of her hand over her face and closed the book, shifting her feet to the floor so that she was sitting facing him. "I took a pregnancy test today," she announced, tucking her hands under her knees as if she wasn't sure what to do with them.

He was so thrown that all he could manage was, "Oh," as his legs carried him down to the cushion beside hers. As a doctor, he knew better than anyone that no method of contraception was foolproof, but he definitely hadn't seen this coming. He glanced over at her for a cue about how to react, but her expression was impossible to read. "So you're…?" No wonder she'd been a little off. It was a lot to take in. "I mean… Wow." A baby. With Kate. He almost smiled at the thought.

"The word is 'pregnant', Jack," she retorted, the venom in her tone catching him off guard. "And no. I'm not."

So why was she crying? And why did she seem angry with him for not being more excited when it was a moot point anyway? It was Sarah all over again; for one brief, irrational moment he was afraid that there was something she wasn't telling him, but he pushed the idea out of his head. "That's good, right?" he checked. "We haven't exactly planned for something like this." It wasn't that he _never_ wanted kids, but there was definitely a right way and wrong way to go about it.

She brought her hands to her mouth, chewing on the tip of her thumbnail. "I can't…" she began, cutting herself off with a shake of her head before she gathered her thoughts enough to try again. "I can't do this anymore."

It wasn't until he reminded himself that this wasn't the first time she'd 'lost' a child that he felt like he understood why she was so emotional. Taking the test had probably stirred up some memories. "Is this about Wayne? The baby?" he guessed. He knew how badly she'd wanted it.

"No, Jack – this is about us," she corrected him, a hint of exasperation creeping into her voice. "I just think we need to take a step back."

"A step back?" Now she was beginning to scare him.

"I don't think we should see each other anymore – not the way we have been," she explained, leaving him with little doubt as to her meaning this time.

"Just so we're clear… You're breaking up with me? Over a _negative_ pregnancy test?" Nothing had changed. They were still the same people they'd been when she kissed him goodbye that morning. "Don't you think you're blowing this way out of proportion?" She was upset. She shouldn't be making life-altering decisions until she'd had time to sort out her feelings.

"I meant what I said, Jack. I love you. The last thing I wanna do is hurt you," she agreed, and he felt the painful knot in his stomach release until she added, "which is why I think it's better that we end this now, before it goes any further."

None of it made any sense. She loved him, but she didn't want to date him?

"Do you remember the day we took Jayden and Sophie to the zoo?" she asked, reaching for his hand to soothe him; he almost jerked it away, but he needed to feel her touch now more than ever. "Do you remember how we talked about having kids?" He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. "You told me you weren't sure, and that's fine – you have your parents and Claire and Aaron and the hospital."

Her voice broke as she fought back a fresh wave of tears. "But I never had any of that. All I ever wanted was to be a mom. This way we can both have what we want."

"And if what I want is _you_?" he insisted. He didn't need anything else to be happy, so why did she?

"We'll still see each other all the time – I'm still Aaron's godmother," she reminded him. "We just won't be having sex." She tried to make a joke out of it, but the result was that it came off sounding hollow and bitter.

"Wait, you think…?" How many times had he told her he loved her? Surely she understood that by now. "That's never what this was."

"It might as well be," she said with a sad smile.

She let go of his hand a stood, apparently to show him to the door. "You should go home," she told him gently, opening it for him. "I have an early flight in the morning and…" She trailed off, not seeming to know what to say now that it was done.

He could feel whatever hope he had left of them working this out evaporate when he realised that she wasn't going to give him a chance to change her mind. "You're leaving?" he asked, closing the door again, the words coming out more accusing than he'd intended. How could she do that to him? Say all those things and take off? "Where are you going?"

"Back to Iowa, to visit my dad – _step_dad," she explained, clearly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. "I thought it would make things easier if we gave each other some space."

He didn't want space. What he wanted was for this not to be happening; for her to laugh and kiss him and assure him that he was just teasing him. It was like a bad dream. "What about the kids?"

"I already spoke to Rebecca," she confessed. "She said they could manage without me for a few days."

It hit him then that this was never about _them_. She had it all figured out before he even got there: she was going regardless of what he said. He wasn't even sure she would have bothered saying goodbye if he hadn't come looking for her. "So that's it?" he insisted. "You go, and when you come back, we act like nothing happened? What am I supposed to do – wave to you from across the hall?" How could she expect him to be around her and not want to be close to her, knowing what they had?

He could see the cracks forming in her façade of calmness as she struggled to hold onto her conviction. "I'm sorry, Jack. I really am," she said. "I wish it didn't have to be this way."

Maybe it didn't. Maybe he could still salvage this. "What if I told you I was ready? That we could have a baby tomorrow if that's what you wanted?"

She stopped looking for an escape route then, and he seized on her uncertainty, wrapping her in a fierce hug, his fingers tangling in the curls that hung down her back. "We could throw out your pills, start trying," he murmured into her ear. "Just because you're not pregnant _now_..." They would have found themselves in the same position if the test had been positive: what difference would a couple of months make? "We could get married, buy a house in the suburbs… We don't have to break up to both get what we want."

"You'd do that for me?" she asked, and he wondered if she was actually considering it. There was a part of him that had never really believed she would. After all, it was crazy… wasn't it?

"I'd do anything for you, Kate," he agreed. He could do this. He _had_ to do this. He would die for her if it ever came to that. Overcoming his doubts should be easy by comparison.

He realised this was the wrong answer when he felt her tense. "I'd say it's a nice thought," she told him, emphasising the last word as she pulled back, erecting an invisible barrier between them. She lifted her shoulder in a kind of half-hearted shrug. "But who knows? Maybe one day."

"One day," he repeated with a disbelieving laugh. How was he supposed to propose to her now, knowing that even if she accepted – and that was a big if after the way she'd just shot him down – for the rest of their lives, she would be under the mistaken belief that he'd only done it because she gave him an ultimatum? That wasn't how he'd imagined it.

He brushed her cheek with his lips, allowing them to linger there for a few seconds while she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to react to him. "Have a safe trip, Kate," he told her when he stepped back, moving past her to the door, but he stopped as his palm closed around the handle. "I'm sorry it didn't turn out the way you wanted. For what it's worth, I think you would've been a great mom."

* * *

Next chapter: Kate visits Sam, and Jack gets advice from an unlikely source... ;)


	25. Chapter 25

Thanks for the reviews. Another long chapter to make up for the lack of Jate interaction. I'm thinking this fic will end around chapter 30 and then I'll probably go back to writing on Destiny. ;)

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Chapter 25.

"I have to admit, I was surprised when you called," Sam said, shouldering Kate's duffel bag as they left the airport together. "I didn't think I was ever gonna see you again."

She'd written to him from LA a couple of times to let him know that she was okay, but it was the first real contact they'd had since she discovered that he wasn't her biological father. She waited until they were both seated in his car to answer. "I never should've said those things to you," she told him, a pang of remorse gripping her as she remembered how harsh her words had been and how he'd just stood there. "What happened – what _she_ did – wasn't your fault. It wasn't your job to tell me the truth." It was her mother that she should have been hating, but that wasn't easy when she wasn't around to defend herself.

He swallowed hard, nodding and shooting her a watery smile to tell her that he wasn't going to hold any of it against her. "How're things with that guy?" he asked, changing the subject as he gunned the engine. "What's his name? The doctor."

"Jack," she supplied, wishing that he'd chosen something else to talk about. _Anything_ else. Despite what she'd told Jack about needing to get to bed early so that she could make her flight, she hadn't been able to sleep without him.

"Jack," Sam repeated, drawing her out of her thoughts. "How's things with Jack?"

He was going to have to know eventually. "We broke up," she confessed.

"Sorry to hear that," he said, his smile fading; they fell back into an uncomfortable silence until he added, "You wanna talk about it?"

What she wanted was to forget. By doing it now instead of later, she was supposed to be sparing them both a lot pain; she hadn't expected it to hurt so much. Already it was like a physical ache, and the worst part was, she had no one to blame for it but herself. "I wanna move back home," she blurted out. If she could get away from him, then maybe she could get over him. "You were right – I _was_ running away."

He glanced over at her, trying to catch her eye, and she could feel his gaze boring into her. "And what are you doing now?"

* * *

Kate had been gone for less than a day and Jack could already feel himself slipping back into his old pattern. When even the scent of her shampoo on the pillow beside his wasn't enough to lull him to sleep, he dressed in the dark and drove over to the hospital to check on his patients.

It was hard to think about his own broken heart while he was surrounded with people who were worse off than he was; then again, he had to live with his pain. As much as he hated to admit it, his mother was right: he'd survived losing Kate, but just barely.

His first consult wasn't until nine, so he managed to take a brief nap in the on call room before his shift officially began. The patient had been admitted through emergency the day before after complaining of severe back pain; Jack went over the report filed by the attending on duty before he went to the patient's room.

Like many of his patients, he was older: a septuagenarian if Jack had to guess. "Mr Jacobi?" he read, taking his chart from the hook. "I'm Dr. Shephard."

"Call me Eli." The old man reached over the rail, stroking something, and as he repositioned himself for a better view, Jack noticed, for the first time, that there was a fully-grown golden retriever curled on the floor by his bed. "And this here is Leo."

Despite his model behaviour, the dog was incongruous with the rest of the room. "I'm sorry, Eli, but didn't anyone tell you that we have a strict no animal policy here at St Sebastian's? I'm sure—" He began, intending to call for one of the nurses, but the old man cut him off with a hearty laugh.

"Leo is a service dog," he explained, scratching between the golden retriever's ears. "He takes care of me."

Jack glanced back down at the chart in his hands, scanning the lines of doctors' scrawl until he found what he was looking for. "You're a diabetic."

"The joys of aging, eh?" the old man agreed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his lips turned up into a smile.

"It says here you've also been diagnosed with lumbar spinal stenosis?" Jack checked, consulting his chart again. "And that you've tried anti-inflammatory drugs, physiotherapy and cortisone injections, all without success?"

"So what's the prognosis?" Eli asked. "You perform a laminectomy, try to relieve the pressure on the nerve roots? I'd do it myself, but…" He twisted his neck, looking over his shoulder with a sheepish grin to illustrate how difficult it would be for him to reach.

Jack couldn't hide his surprise at how well the old man seemed to understand his condition. Something about his confidence told him that he hadn't just researched treatments online. "You're a surgeon?"

"_Was_ a surgeon," Eli corrected him. "Now I'm just an old man with back problems."

"If you're a doctor, then I don't need to tell you that there's a higher instance of post-operative complications in patients suffering from diabetes," Jack reminded him gently. There were so many things that could go wrong – hyperglycaemia, hypoglycaemia, pneumonia, infection – and at his age, given his poor state of health, even a minor infection could prove fatal.

Eli stopped joking around then, touching his sleeve to get him to look down at him. "I know the risks, but I can't live like this," he agreed. "I want the surgery."

* * *

Sam went back to work after dropping Kate off, leaving her to get settled into her old room. Everything was the same, from the threadbare blue comforter, to the New Kids On The Block poster she'd tacked behind her door when she was ten, to the plastic horses lined up on the shelf, but somehow it didn't bring her the comfort it once had. When she lay down on her bed, closing her eyes, all she could see was Jack's crushed expression; she couldn't stop her mind from replaying his anger and the desperate way he'd offered to give her a baby. If she'd believed for a moment that he wanted a family with her as much as she wanted one with him…

"What d'you say I take you to a movie to celebrate your first night back in Iowa?" Sam suggested as they cleared up after dinner that night.

On a normal day, she would have relished the opportunity to spend time with him. She'd always been what her mother called a daddy's girl. Tonight, however, she just wanted to be alone. "Thanks, but I was thinking I might go for a drive, check out some of the old haunts," she told him.

She could see that he was disappointed. That, or he was afraid she still resented him. "Raincheck?"

"Sure," she agreed, flashing him the warmest smile she could manage. She kissed his cheek and took his keys from the hook. "Night, Daddy."

* * *

She ended up at the tree house she'd built with Tom in the woods behind her childhood home. It was little more than a rickety wooden platform in the fork of an old oak, but as a child, it had been her escape: a place where she could go to hide from Wayne, or to dream, or just to sit and think.

She could see right into her backyard from there; she watched as Wayne's truck shuddered into the drive and he staggered up to the porch, disappearing from sight, drunk as usual. He didn't know she was there, but all of a sudden, she wanted to be back on the other side of the country in Jack's apartment with him and Claire and Aaron. Somehow, they'd become her family, her home.

A pair of hands came into view over the planks to her left, followed by a familiar dark head. "Tom," she greeted her former fiancé as he hoisted himself onto the platform beside her. She wasn't sure if she was happy to see him.

"I heard you were back," he explained, breathing hard with the exertion of climbing. "Thought I might find you out here." He leant back on his hands, allowing his legs to dangle over the side. "What're you doing?"

"Just thinking," she told him, hoping that he still knew her well enough not to ask her what about. She didn't want to talk to him about Jack.

"You been to see Wayne yet?" he asked when his gaze landed on the house.

She shook her head. "No." That was one part of her past she was determined _not_ to revisit. They might share half of her genes, but that was where the relationship ended.

"Good," Tom agreed. "Let the bastard drink himself to death. It's what he deserves."

He turned his attention back to her with a heavy sigh. "Rachel and I split up," he confessed.

She hadn't seen him in over four years, since he came home for Spring Break with a woman he'd met at Northwestern and announced that he was getting married, so why was he telling her this now? "I'm sorry. What about Connor?"

"Rachel's got him, but she lets me take him out on weekends," he told her. "If she lets me have him for the summer, I'm gonna drive to the beach."

For a fleeting moment, she wondered if he was planning to come out and see her. Then again, she could be reading him wrong. "He must be almost…?"

"Three." He fished a crumpled picture out of his wallet, of a little boy with round cheeks and a mop of chestnut brown hair.

"He looks just like you," she told him, examining it with a smile, but inside, she couldn't help wondering if she was doomed to remain the only one in her circle of friends without a child. It seemed like everyone was having babies except her.

And Jack, of course.

Tom tucked the wallet and picture back into his pocket, his mood changing, becoming grave as he asked, "You ever think about…?"

"Yeah," she agreed. For almost ten years, she'd managed to bury it, but lately, she couldn't seem to stop herself.

"Sometimes, when I look at him – at Connor –, I wonder if that's what our son would've looked like," he confessed.

"Or daughter," she reminded him, brushing away the tears that stung at her eyes. They would never know for sure.

"She would've been beautiful," he said, reaching for her hand to give it a brief, comforting squeeze; it was nice to touch him again after all this time, but he wasn't Jack.

He cleared his throat. "So what about you?" he asked, nervous all of a sudden. "You seeing anyone?"

She could have said no, but after less than a day, she didn't feel single. "It's complicated."

"Tell me about it," he agreed, cracking a smile. "You wanna go grab a beer? You can tell me all about your glamorous life in LA."

It wasn't like it would be cheating. Without Jack, she was free to do whatever she wanted: she could go home with Tom, spend the night; they could get married, have the nine kids he'd teased her about, just like they were always supposed to.

It should be a dream come true, so why did thinking about it now make her want to cry?

"Sounds like fun, but it's been a really long day," she told him, using a branch that hung low overhead to pull herself to her feet. "I think I just wanna go to bed."

* * *

Around five o'clock, Claire sent Jack a text to tell him that she was spending the night at Charlie's; he wasn't ready to go home to an empty apartment, so he ate dinner alone in the cafeteria, watching a father cut up food for his toddler while his wife sat in a wheelchair beside them, nursing a baby that couldn't have been more than a day old.

More than anything, he wanted to be that guy, but he couldn't seem to drown out the voice inside his head that told him he deserved being alone.

"What's the matter, son?" Eli asked, picking up on his gloomy expression when he stopped by his room to collect another blood sample. He needed to check the old man's electrolyte count one more time before he felt confident scheduling the procedure. "You look like you lost your best friend."

Leo was still keeping vigil beside his bed. "That's funny," Jack said without looking at Eli as he prepared the syringe. If only he knew how close this was to the truth.

"Then why aren't you laughing?"

He didn't have to answer that. He could just take the blood and escape. "My girlfriend left me," he told him, concentrating on cleaning the area. He was so used to confiding in Kate now that he didn't know who else to talk to.

"Ah, a lover's tiff," Eli teased him with a knowing smile. He flinched as Jack inserted the needle into the inside of his arm. "Well, I'm sure she'll come around."

Jack wished that he could believe him, but it wasn't as simple as begging her forgiveness. If it was, he'd be on his way to Iowa by now. "It wasn't even a fight – she just left me." He sealed up the vial, packing the instruments away in a careful, clinical manner as he struggled to avoid showing any outward sign of emotion.

"So what'd you do?" Eli pressed. Off Jack's silence, he added, "You must have done _something_."

It wasn't so much about what he'd done as what he hadn't done, or at least, what he wasn't prepared to do. "She wants a baby, and I don't know if I have what it takes to be a good father," he explained.

"You seem like a compassionate young man, so what's the problem?" Eli asked him. "Don't like kids?" He leaned forward, lowering his voice with a furtive look. "You're not sterile, are you?"

"No, I'm not sterile," Jack assured him with an indignant laugh, caught between amusement and embarrassment. "At least I don't think so." It wasn't like he'd ever had a reason to get tested. "And I _like_ kids, I just don't know how they'll feel about me. My first wife divorced me because I was never home. She said I worked too much. I wanna be there for Kate and our family, but what if I mess up again?"

"She already left you, son," the old man pointed out, raising a dubious eyebrow at him. "How much worse can you mess it up? Besides – all that time bent over an operating table? You don't wanna end up like me…"

* * *

Next chapter: Kate returns... ;)

It's my birthday tomorrow, so don't forget to review! xD


	26. Chapter 26

Thanks for the reviews (and your well wishes). Shameless, I know, to use my birthday like that -- especially when I've been doing pretty well in that department lately. xD As for how old I am, I'll give you a hint -- look at the chapter title. That should answer your question. ;)

* * *

Chapter 26.

Kate was just finishing up in the shower the next morning when the doorbell rang. Sam had taken the car and headed off to work while she was still eating breakfast, promising to get home early enough for them to do something together that night.

She wasn't expecting anyone, so she was surprised when she peeked through the window and saw Tom, his hands in his pockets as he stood on the porch, facing away towards the street. He turned at the sound of her opening the door. "Hey."

"Hey," she echoed, glancing down at the miniature version of him playing on the steps. That must have been what he was watching, she realised.

Seeing pictures was one thing, but now that he was here in front of her, she understood what Tom meant: it was like looking at the son that she'd never gotten to meet.

"This is Connor," he told her once he'd called him over. "Connor, this is Kate – a good friend of Daddy's."

"Hi, Connor," she said, crouching down to his level. She jerked her chin at the stuffed animal tucked under his arm. "What've you got there? A giraffe?"

He clutched it tighter, burying his face in its long neck and ensconcing himself behind his father's leg.

"He's shy," Tom explained with an apologetic shrug.

"Most kids his age are," she agreed with a smile as she drew herself back up to her usual height. She held her hand out to his son. "You wanna come inside with me and get a cookie?"

After shooting a quick look at his father to make sure that that was all right, the boy overcame whatever reservations he had about her, thrusting his small palm into hers, and she started back into the house, leaving Tom to follow.

"Wow. I haven't been here in… almost ten years," he remarked, slowing to take in the familiar furnishings as the three of them made their way through the living room, into the kitchen.

She could still remember the day she'd brought him over there to tell Sam that she was pregnant… and that they were getting married. He was upset, of course – he'd always wanted her to go to college – but not as upset as he'd been when he came to visit her in hospital a month later.

"It hasn't changed much," she agreed.

She fished a chocolate chip cookie out of the jar on top of the microwave and put it into Connor's waiting hands.

"What d'you say, Con?" Tom prompted him.

"Thank you, Kate," he sang through the first mouthful; he took another bite, smearing chocolate on his chin.

Aside from the horses, and a few other favourite toys that had remained in her room, Sam didn't have anything for him to play with, so she settled him at the dining room table with a pad of paper and a packet of coloured pencils she found in a drawer in the office.

"Where's Rachel?" she asked Tom as she made coffee for them.

"She went up to Des Moines for the day," he explained, leaning back against the cabinets in a way that reminded her of Jack, although he didn't have to bend his knees nearly as much. "Her sister just had a baby."

There it was again: babies. She sighed. "So what brings you here?"

He accepted the mug she handed him, but didn't drink from it, staring into the murky brown liquid as if it were some kind of divination tool that could tell him what she was thinking. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he confessed. "Last night when I saw you, you seemed… sad."

He was hoping that she would pour her heart out to him, but she wasn't even sure where to begin. He didn't know Jack. She wasn't even sure he knew her anymore. "I'm fine," she lied. "I'm just going through some stuff."

"Does this 'stuff' have anything to do with why you won't go out with me?" he pressed; she could hear the resignation in his tone.

"It's not that I don't want to – or that it wouldn't be great," she assured him. It would be so easy to fall back into his arms, even if she didn't love him the way she once had. "There was a time when I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, but we're not those people anymore, Tom." She hadn't been that person in a long time.

"Of course we're not," he agreed. "We were just kids back then. I didn't know how to be a father or a husband, so when you lost the baby… I saw a chance for freedom and I took it. I got scared, Katie, but I should have stayed – I know that now. I should have fought for you."

But he hadn't. He'd taken his parents' money and gone off to college and left her to grieve for their child alone. She was so hurt and confused that she'd ignored all of his messages and the letters he sent her from Chicago; the next time she saw him, he was with Rachel, and she gave up on trying to forgive him.

"If you did, you wouldn't have that beautiful little boy in there," she pointed out, watching Connor choose a green pencil, adding it to the rainbow of scribbles on the page.

And I never would have met Jack, she reminded herself. It was hard to imagine never knowing him; never loving him or being loved by him. Just the thought of going her whole life without seeing him made her feel tired and empty.

"So I guess it all worked out," she finished. At least it would have, if she wasn't such an idiot.

"That doesn't mean I don't still think about it – about us," Tom told her, moving in, his hands on her shoulders, so close that she could have kissed him if she'd wanted to. "About what it would've been like to marry you. Can you honestly tell me that you don't?"

Did she ever think about it? No, she realised. Not for a long time: since she found herself falling for Jack.

She took a step back, turning away from him under the pretence of rinsing out her mug.

Tom was in her past. Jack was her future.

* * *

Jack withdrew his stethoscope, allowing the collar of Eli's hospital gown to fall back into place. "Vital signs are normal," he told him. The old man's heart rate, blood pressure and electrolyte count were all within the range he would expect, meaning that despite his condition, he was still a good candidate for surgery. "Is there anyone you want me to call? Wife? Kids? Grandkids?"

Eli regarded him with a sad smile. "No wife. No kids." So definitely no grandkids.

Despite the fact that he could say the same thing about himself – or maybe _because_ of it – Jack thought there was something tragic about these four words. "What about friends?" he insisted. "A neighbour even?" Surely there was someone in Eli's life who cared what happened to him?

But if there was, then why hadn't they come to visit him? Why hadn't anyone come to visit him? The only frequent companion he'd had since his admission was the golden retriever that now lay under the chair by his bed, watching them with mournful eyes.

"Never really made time to get to know my neighbours," Eli confessed. "They were always asleep by the time I got home." He picked up his pudding cup and offered it to Leo, ruffling the fur on the back of his neck when he lifted his head to lick it. "I'm afraid it's just been me and this old boy since I retired."

"Well, then maybe once we get your back fixed, we should do something to change that," Jack told him as he finished updating his chart. He capped his pen and slid it back into the pocket of his lab coat. "I hear Mrs Clarke in 518 is divorced – I could put in a good word for you."

"Is she cute?" Eli pressed, leaning forward with an eager grin that reminded Jack of a teenager.

She was no Kate, but Jack could tell that she was once what most men would consider beautiful, with faded blue eyes and a reddish tint to her white hair. "She is if you're into grandmas," he allowed. It would be good for Eli to find a family to accept him; the thought of him alone, when he could slip into a diabetic coma at any time, worried Jack.

Eli chuckled. "If I get through tomorrow okay, I might just take you up on that," he agreed; his smile was dreamy as he added, "Wouldn't mind borrowing a couple of grandkids."

"What're you talking about?" Jack teased him, trying to keep his tone light to hide how much the idea that he wouldn't make it affected him. It was enough to convince him to cancel the surgery, but he needed to respect the old man's wishes. "I've done this procedure hundreds of times now and I've never lost a patient yet."

He decided to turn it into a joke. "Besides, you wouldn't wanna put Leo out of a job, would you?"

Eli laughed again, but this time, there was an underlying seriousness. "You're a good man, Jack," he told him. "The kind any kid would be proud to have as a father."

* * *

By the time her father got away from the recruiting centre, Kate had booked a red-eye flight back to LAX and was in the process of repacking her belongings.

"Don't tell me you're leaving already?" he asked, poking his head into her room in time to see her zipping up her bag. "You just got here."

"I'm sorry, Daddy – I wish I could stay, but I have to get back to Jack," she told him. The longer she waited, the more likely it was that he'd try to move on; the thought of him out on a date with some scrub nurse from the hospital or one of Laura's single friends made her sick with anxiety. It was all she could do not to call him and ask where he was.

Sam's brows knitted together in confusion. "Jack? I thought you said you two broke up?"

"_We_ didn't break up. I broke up with him," she explained, fighting back tears as she remembered again how stupid she'd been. If he'd had his way, she'd probably be with him right now, making dinner or babysitting Aaron, or doing any of the hundreds of things that made up their familiar routine. She wanted that back.

"But what if it was a huge mistake?" she insisted when, not seeming to know what to say, he crossed the threshold and pulled her to his chest, stroking her hair while she sobbed into his uniform like she had when she was a little girl. "What if I'm throwing away the best part of my life because I'm scared of what _might_ happen?"

Maybe they'd get married and start a family together someday, when they were _both_ ready, and maybe they wouldn't; all she knew for sure was that she didn't want that with anyone but him. "That's why I have to get home. I need to put things right…"

* * *

Okay, so I can promise you there will be actual Jate interaction this time.

Next chapter: Kate goes to see Jack, and Jack gets some bad news... ;)


	27. Chapter 27

Thanks for the reviews. Only three more chapters to go after this (one of which will be the usual epilogue). ;)

* * *

Chapter 27.

Sunrise was only an hour or two away by the time Kate paid the cab driver and scrambled out of the backseat, dragging her duffel behind her. She'd spent the whole night travelling – first to Denver and then onwards to LA – and she was sure that this must be what jetlag felt like as pushed the button and leant back against the wall, waiting for the lift to come down and collect her from the empty lobby.

When she came to Jack's door, she stopped, pressing her ear into the wood, disappointed when she couldn't hear anyone moving around inside. Even if he was home, he was probably asleep; for a brief moment, she contemplated letting herself in with the key that he'd given her and slipping into his bed so that she could be close to him, but she didn't know how he would feel when he woke up and found her there and she wasn't sure that it was worth the risk.

So she went to her own apartment instead, dropping her bag in the hall and heading into the bedroom, where she collapsed on top of the comforter and was out within minutes.

It was almost noon when she woke again from a troubled sleep, starving and in desperate need of a shower and a strong cup of coffee. Jack usually went into the hospital around seven; she didn't want to ambush him while he was working, so she got cleaned up and poured herself a bowl of cereal and carried it into her room to unpack.

When, by two o'clock, she'd finished everything that she needed to do for the day – including two loads of laundry – she called Rebecca and offered to come over for the rest of the afternoon so that she could go in and check on things at the gallery. She figured it was the least she could do after leaving her in the lurch like that.

Spending time with the kids provided her a welcome distraction from the moment that she was both anticipating and dreading. While she knew that she'd hurt Jack – and badly – by walking out on him, she was determined to win back his trust, no matter how long it took. Surely he would have to forgive her once he saw how sorry she was?

She had been hoping to avoid Claire until she figured out where she stood with him, but she yanked the door open just as Kate raised her hand to knock. "Hey."

"Hi," Claire greeted her. She gestured to Aaron, nestled in a sling against her chest, freeing her other shoulder up to carry his diaper bag. "We were just on our way over to Charlie's."

Kate caught one of her godson's chubby little fists and held it. "Hey, buddy," she cooed, smiling when he flashed his gums at her and gurgled in recognition. He'd grown up so much since the night she'd delivered him; she felt a pang as she wondered if Claire would still let her babysit him now that she and Jack technically weren't together anymore.

"You've been spending a lot of time over there lately," she remarked to Claire.

"Uh huh," Claire agreed. "The other day he bought Aaron one of those travel cots, for when he stays the night. He loves it. We put him in there and Charlie sings to him and he goes straight to sleep."

She looked so happy; it was hard to believe that she was the same girl who, not long ago, swore that the fun part of her life was over. "That's sweet," Kate agreed. She was glad that Charlie was shaping up to be such a good father. Claire deserved to be with someone who could take care of both of them after what she'd been through with Thomas.

She stepped outside, into the hall, and pulled the door closed behind her. "Wanna know a secret?"

What Kate really wanted was for her to go out, and leave her alone with Jack, but Claire was struggling to hold back her excitement, so she nodded.

"Charlie asked us to move in with him."  
"Isn't it a little soon for you to be living together?" Kate asked her. "I mean, you've only known him, what? A month? Two?" Aaron was only three months old so it definitely couldn't be longer than that.

"You sound just like, Jack," Claire teased her, rolling her eyes in that annoyingly little sister-ish way. "And we wouldn't be 'living together' – he needs a roommate and I can't afford to rent a place on my own. Plus, he can help me with Aaron, so I wouldn't always have to rely on you guys. It's perfect!"

It made sense that she would want to start building a life of her own, now that she had a job and a new boyfriend, but Kate couldn't help being apprehensive. "How does Jack feel about you moving out?" she asked, afraid of how he would react to finding himself all alone in that huge apartment. He wouldn't eat well or take care of himself: what if he went back to spending all of his time at the hospital?

"I'm still figuring out the best way to break the news to him," Claire admitted. "I don't wanna seem ungrateful after everything he's done for us. It's a shame you're _not_ pregnant, because I think that would've softened the blow. He wouldn't even have time to miss us!"

Kate forced a polite smile, but she still wasn't ready to make light of it.

"How've you been, anyway?" Claire asked her, seeming to pick up on the change in her mood. "I feel like I hardly ever see you anymore."

Not since the day she'd coaxed Kate into taking the pregnancy test. "Good," Kate lied, even though there was a part of her that wanted to blurt out the whole story. "I got my period, so… I guess that's that." She tried to sound resigned – relieved, even – but the truth was, she'd shut herself in the bathroom and cried for almost an hour when it finally came. She knew that she wasn't pregnant by then, but somehow, she couldn't seem to let go of the idea until her body supplied her with proof.

"It's probably for the best, you know," Claire agreed. "At least now you can wait until you're ready. Just remember that I was the one who introduced you to him when you go to pick a godmother."

Not that Kate thought Jack would ever be ready now. She'd been too forceful about the entire subject.

Claire slid her phone out of her pocket, checking the clock. "I should go – I told Charlie I'd be there at seven – but I'm glad I caught you. Jack was acting kind of …_weird_… before. He came home early – I think he might've been drinking. I was hoping you could talk to him?" Her voice rose uncertainly, as though she were asking a question, which Kate supposed she was.

"He didn't tell you?" she checked, unable to hide her surprise. It was the kind of thing Claire would have expected her to do when she was his girlfriend – or even just his best friend – and she wasn't sure she could call herself either of those things anymore.

"Tell me what?" Claire repeated, frowning at her. "Did something happen?"

Kate searched her face for a sign that she was just playing dumb, but it was clear that she had no idea what was going on between them. She shook her head. "Never mind."

* * *

Jack was sitting on the couch with all of the lights turned out and the curtains drawn, a drink in his hand; the opened bottle of Scotch on the coffee table in front of him.

As soon as Kate saw him, she knew that his sister was right. He was definitely not himself. In fact, he reminded her a little of his father… at least the stories she'd heard about him. "Why didn't you tell Claire we broke up?" she asked him.

His eyes darted over to her at the sound of her voice, his expression registering shock, followed by a mixture of anger and guilt. "Kate. What're you doing here? You're supposed to be in Iowa."

"I came back because I wanted to see you," she explained, twisting her hands together when she couldn't seem to decide what else to do with them. When she'd fantasised about it at her father's house and again on the plane, he was overjoyed by her sudden appearance in his apartment. Realistically, she knew that he was upset, but she hadn't expected such open hostility from him. It almost made her want to turn and run back the other way. "I thought we should talk about... about the whole baby thing."

"Now's not really a good time," he told her, hunching over to refill his glass; she wondered how many that was now? Judging by the amount of alcohol left in the bottle, he wasn't drunk _yet_, but he was certainly getting there. "Go home, Kate. I'll call you tomorrow."

She knew, from the details he'd been willing to share with her, that he hadn't coped well with his divorce, but this was the first time she'd seen this side of him for herself. It was disconcerting, to say the least – he was always so strong, so brave, so in control of himself – but at the same time, it reminded her of how vulnerable he was beneath it all; why she'd fallen in love with him in the first place. He was one of the most dedicated men that she'd ever known. He could never just let things slide. "Why? What happened? What's wrong?"

Forgetting the events of the past few days for a moment, she crossed the living room until she was standing in front of him, crouching between his knees and taking his face in her hands. "Talk to me, Jack. Tell me what's going on."

"I lost a patient today," he said finally. He closed his eyes, as if forcing himself to conjure up his face. "Eli. His name was Eli."

"Oh, Jack," she whispered. It was the one thing about his job that she truly hated: how torn up he was about each life he failed to save. "How did he…?" What if it was because of her? What if he'd messed up because he was distracted?

"Die?" he supplied with a bitter laugh. "Congestive heart failure. Everything about the procedure was textbook – I removed the bone that was putting pressure on his spine, closed him up – but then the nurses took him back to his room…"

She let out a slow breath as she moved to the couch beside him, relaxing at the knowledge that nothing either of them did – or didn't do – could have changed the outcome. "It sounds like you did everything that you could – everything you were supposed to."

"He was a sick old man – he knew the odds were again him – but still… I can't stop thinking about it," he confessed. "He was a surgeon, just like me, and he was alone when he… when he died. No one came to visit him – not once in three days."

He reached for her hand, grasping it so tight that it almost hurt. "You were right – we _should_ have a baby," he insisted; as if she didn't feel awful enough for not being there when he needed her, he rushed on, "I don't wanna die alone, Kate, and I'm scared that if I don't change my life soon, that's where it's headed."

"Hey, it's okay," she assured him, squeezing back. There was no way his sister was going to let that happen to him… and neither would she. "You're not alone – you have Claire and Aaron… and you've got me." That was, if he still wanted her, she reminded herself silently.

He looked up at her, hopeful, and she felt some of the heaviness in her chest lift.

"I am so sorry for leaving like that," she told him. She willed herself not to cry, but she couldn't seem to help the tears that spilled over onto her cheeks as she added, "I was so sure I was pregnant that when I found out I wasn't…" Her biggest fear was that, if given the choice, he would never agree to it: at least not for the reasons she wanted him to. "You're not the only one who's scared. I'm scared too – scared that I'll never get to be a mom – but not as scared as I am of losing you."

She barely managed to get the words out before his mouth enveloped hers, his hands caressing her face, her hair, the skin of her lower back – any part of her that they could reach –, kissing her like a drowning man in search of something solid to hold onto.

"I missed you so much," she confessed when the need for oxygen forced them apart. She wrapped her arms around him, moulding herself to his chest, where she imagined she could feel his heart beating out a frantic tattoo against her own.

"Me too," he agreed, kissing her shoulder, the curve of her neck; tiny, delicate kisses that brought a soft sigh of happiness to her lips. She made up her mind then never to leave him again.

"Oh yeah? How much?" she teased him, turning her head and guiding his mouth back up to hers so that he could kiss her properly.

All she wanted to do at that moment was to lose herself in him, like she had before she let her doubts come between them. "It's okay," she whispered when she slid his shirt out of his pants and began to unbutton it and he pulled out of the kiss. She didn't want him to think that she had an ulterior motive for being with him. "I'm still on the pill – I promise."

She tried to move back in, but he held her at arm's length. "Let's get one thing clear, so nothing like this ever happens again. I want to marry you and have babies with you and spend the rest of my life doing whatever makes you happy," he assured her, "but does it have to be _right _now?"

He relaxed his grip on her waist, allowing her to get close to him this time, so that he could continue speaking to her in a suggestive tone. "Because right now, I just wanna enjoy the time we have together, _before_ all of that."

She couldn't argue with him there. They were finally about the get rid of Claire; with a child in the house, they'd be right back where they started. She shook her head. "I can wait," she agreed with a wicked grin, peeling her tank top over her head and kissing him again.

* * *

Next chapter: Jack and Kate talk more about the future, and Jack receives a strange inheritance... ;)


	28. Chapter 28

Thanks for the reviews. Things are kind of crazy for me at the moment. My mum is going into hospital again tomorrow, so I'm not sure when I'll be able to update. Hopefully still some time this week. ;)

* * *

Chapter 28.

Kate's breath tickled Jack's neck when she sighed, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder while her fingers traced the dark hair on his stomach down to where it disappeared beneath the sheet. "I missed this – us," she told him, following it back up to his chest and bracing her palm against his diaphragm as she leaned over to kiss him.

As satisfying as the rest of the night had been, what he'd missed most was the sense of peace that came over him in between bouts of lovemaking and sleep, when he felt more connected to her than any other woman he'd shared his bed with, even his wife.

"You wanna know something crazy?" he said, propping himself on his elbow.

She shifted onto her side until her position mirrored his, close enough that their knees were still touching; with a sly grin, she ran the sole of her foot up his calf, teasing him, but he knew as well as she did that neither of them was up for another round any time soon.

"When you were in Iowa, I was terrified that you were gonna meet some farm boy who loves kids and forget all about me."

"It's funny you should say that," she agreed but she didn't laugh, breaking eye contact with him and lowering her voice as if she were afraid of how he would react. "I saw Tom."

He'd only ever heard her talk about one Tom. Her childhood sweetheart. Her first love, first kiss… Her first. The father of her dead child. How did she expect him to compete with history like that? "As in the guy you were gonna marry?"

"I didn't go there looking for him, Jack," she insisted. "He found me."

So that was it. He was still in love with her. How could he not be? "And then what?" he pressed. "What did he want?"

He felt like he was going to be sick when she hesitated, her silence speaking louder than words. He sat up, turning his back on her, dropping his head into his hands. He didn't want to know this. He didn't want to know any of it. Why did she have to ruin their reunion by telling him? "You slept with him."

"No!" she cried vehemently; when he looked up, she had moved over beside him with the covers drawn up to her chest. "No, Jack. I would never… We just talked. He told me why he left."

He studied her face while she held his gaze this time, allowing her to pull him back into bed with her when she seemed to be telling the truth. "So? Why did he? Leave?" he prompted once they were settled.

"He got scared. And it just reminded me of how incredible you are, because even though you were scared, you still wanted us to try."

She kissed him again then, a long, slow kiss that made him wish he was ten years younger, when he was still in his prime; between the surgery and the stress of Eli's death he was exhausted before they'd even started.

She didn't seem to mind, returning her head to the centre of his chest.

"I know you said the test was negative, but are you sure you're not pregnant?" he asked her when neither of them fell asleep right away. She'd left for Iowa before they'd had the chance to talk about it. "Sometimes if you take them too early…"

Part of him hoped that she would say no, now that he'd had time to consider the possibility and realised that it wasn't as daunting as he would have thought. A current of excitement ran through him as gave himself momentarily over to the idea, trying to guess what their child would be, which parts of each of them it would inherit: he could picture her being stubborn, but sweet, and daring, like Kate, but not dangerously so. He wouldn't want to have to worry _too_ much.

"I wish I wasn't, but yeah, Jack, I'm positive," she told him and he was surprised at how little he felt in the way of relief. Less than a week ago, he couldn't make up his mind about whether or not he wanted kids, and now he was actually disappointed that he wasn't going to be a father any time soon. "I got my period the next day, so even if _was_ pregnant, I'm definitely not anymore."

"And you're okay with that?" he checked, remembering what she'd said the night she left, about wanting to be a mom. It made him feel selfish for not being more supportive of her dreams, like she was of his.

"I'm okay with our decision to wait, if that's what you mean," she assured him. "When we _do_ start a family, I want it to be because it's something we both want, not because you think it's the only way to stop me from leaving. I really want us to do this properly."

"But if you _were_ pregnant, I would've wanted us to keep it," he told her. He'd waited days for an opportunity to clarify that. When he thought of Aaron, and the hours he'd spent convincing Claire not to give him up… He could never imagine letting anyone else raise his child, much less encouraging her to do anything to harm to it. "I would have loved it."

She smiled, her eyes glistening as she agreed, "I know."

* * *

When Jack finally dragged himself out of bed and into the hospital later that morning, there was an envelope waiting for him at the nurses' station. "Dr Shephard? This was in Mr Jacobi's room," one of the orderlies informed him, holding it out for him to take. "It's addressed to you."

He accepted gingerly, turning it over in his hands as he tried to discern its contents. "Thank you, Maria," he told her with a distracted smile.

He waited until he reached his office to open it, sliding out a thin sheet of blue lined paper.

"_Jack," _it began in the old man's shaky doctor's scrawl.

"_If you're reading this, chances are something went wrong with my surgery and I'm no longer with you. In this event, I want you to remind yourself that these things happen. I know—" _Here the word was crossed out_ "—knew that better than anyone._

_As you're already aware, I never found time outside of the OR to get married or have children (a decision that I now regret more than you can possibly imagine) but if I'd had a son, I hope he would've turned out something like you. That's why I'm entrusting you with the only thing of any real value to me. Take care of him. (I've already told him to do the same for you.)_

_Finally (and I say this with the uttermost respect), don't be an ass. Don't let that girl of yours get away, unless you want to end up a lonely old man like me. I can't help but wonder how much happier Leo would've been with a backyard full of kids to play with. Maybe the two of you can make up for that._

_Best wishes,_

_Eli."_

After he'd read through it twice, he refolded it and placed it back in its envelope on his desk. Like most children, he'd gone through a stage of begging his parents to get him a puppy for Christmas, but his father had viewed it as too much of a distraction and bought him a microscope instead. That was almost three decades ago; he hadn't thought much about it in the years since then. He was too busy to give a dog like Leo the attention he deserved, but then he couldn't exactly refuse a dying man's last request.

"Maria?" he called, poking his head back out into the hall in search of the orderly who'd given him the letter. "Do you know what happened to Mr Jacobi's service dog?"

"We moved him down to the basement until someone from CCI can come out and collect him," she told him.

In his mind's eye, he pictured the golden retriever chained up, alone in the dark with his head between his paws, waiting faithfully for Eli to return. Did he even know that he was dead? Was he capable of understanding what that meant? "CCI?"

"Canine Companions for Independence," she explained. "Since Mr Jacobi doesn't have any family who can care for him, he'll need to be readopted."

From what Jack had seen, Leo was like Eli's child; he wouldn't want him foisted off on strangers. "Call them and tell them that that won't be necessary," he instructed Maria as he turned to head back into his office. He had a consult in half an hour and he needed time to prepare. "I'll be taking him home with me."

* * *

"Jack? Whose dog is that?" Kate asked, dropping the magazine she was reading and scrambling off the couch when Leo trotted into her apartment on his heels. His spirits had improved dramatically since had Jack rescued him from the basement, although he was sure that he must still be pining for his former master.

After struggling with what he should say to Kate when he called her, Jack had decided to surprise her instead, if only to enjoy the look on her face when she saw him. "Mine – well, ours," he explained, closing the door behind them.

She frowned at him, and he knew what she must be wondering why he hadn't discussed it with her first. "Ours? Since when do we have a dog?"

"I thought you liked spontaneity?" he teased her.

"I do, I just…" She shook her head to clear her dazed expression. "Where did you even get a golden retriever this old? He looks too healthy to be a stray."

"I guess you could say I inherited him," he confessed. He tugged on the leash and Leo sat down with his back straight, a picture of obedience as he awaited further instructions. "He's a service dog, so he's already trained."

"What's his name?" she asked; he could see that she was trying to look wary, as if she still hadn't made up her mind, but it wasn't enough to mask her eagerness as she approached him.

"Leo," he supplied. "His name is Leo."

She crouched on the rug in front of him, holding her hand out for him to sniff. "Hi, Leo," she cooed in the same voice she used to talk Aaron. She scratched him behind the ears and he panted, his mouth open, his tongue hanging out in what could almost be described as a grin, beating his tail against the floorboards.

"I think he likes you," Jack told her, pleased that she seemed as taken with him as he was with her. In all the time they'd spent together, at the hospital, and at the pet store and on the ride home, he'd never responded that well to him.

"You know, I'm surprised you agreed to take him," she said when she straightened, wiping her palms on the thighs of her jeans.

Jack followed her into the kitchen, where she filled a bowl with water and set it out on the tiles for Leo. "You don't believe I like animals?" he complained, feigning offence.

"No, it's just… Have you ever even owned a dog before?" she asked him. "It's a big commitment – almost like having a child. You're gonna need to feed him and bath him and take him for walks and let him outside to go to the bathroom…"

"It's a good thing I intend to cut back my hours at the hospital then," he assured her; of course he was hoping that he could still count on her to help him out. If nothing else, it would give her someone besides Aaron to lavish attention on, until they got around to having children of their own.

It might even be fun to share something like this with her, he mused. They could take him for walks on the beach together after work.

The look she gave him was sceptical. "I'm serious, Kate," he insisted. "Eli wanted me to take care of him, so that's what I'm gonna do."

It was almost like he'd planned it this way, to force him out of his comfort zone. Even Claire had been fine when left to her own devices. He wasn't used to being needed by something so helpless; it was definitely going to take some getting used to.

"And if you can handle that," she agreed, slipping her arms around his neck, seeming to have reached the same conclusion, "then maybe in a year or so, we can talk about trying for a baby…"

* * *

Next chapter: Jack, Kate and Charlie help Claire move, and Jack has a proposition for Kate... ;)


	29. Chapter 29

Thanks for the reviews. :) It took me almost the whole two weeks but here it is, the "last" chapter! I'll try to post the epilogue before the end of the year but I'm pretty busy at the moment with my mum recovering from spinal surgery (The irony!), as well as the usual seasonal stuff, and I also have a Secret Santa fic to write, so I won't make any promises... ;)

* * *

Chapter 29.

A few days later, Jack and Kate let themselves into apartment after taking Leo for his evening walk to find Claire waiting for them in the living room.

"Jack? Do you have a minute?" she asked him nervously.

"Sure," he agreed, feeling the smile slip from his face as he studied her expression. She didn't look like she'd been crying which he hoped was a good sign.

Kate glanced from one to the other curiously; sensing that Claire wanted privacy, she unclipped Leo's leash from his collar. "I'll go get his dinner ready," she piped up. She patted her thighs to get his attention, ruffling his fur when he padded over to her. "Come on, boy. Let's go see what we have for you to eat."

She signalled for him to follow her, and a moment later, they disappeared into the kitchen.

"Did something happen with Charlie?" Jack asked Claire once they were alone.

"No. I mean _yes_. Sort of," she told him, shaking her head to clear the confusion before trying again. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

He sat down on the couch, gesturing for her to do the same. "You're not pregnant again, are you?" he asked, only half joking. Even with Kate for support, he didn't know if he could handle watching her go through another situation like that.

"Oh God, no!" she insisted with an uncomfortable laugh, her pencil thin brows shooting up in horror. "Aaron is gunna stay an only child until he's at least thirty."

She eyed him from under the tips of her long lashes, turning the conversation back on him. "I'm sure he'll have plenty of cousins to play with."

Jack could feel his face heating up despite his vow not to react to any more of her suggestive comments about him and Kate. "So if you're not pregnant and you and Charlie aren't having problems…?"

She averted her eyes to her hands, her shoes, the rug, before lifting them back to meet his. "I'm moving out," she announced. "He has a spare room and I'm over there all the time anyway…"

While he wasn't entirely surprised by this news, he hadn't expected it to happen so soon. He'd always assumed that she would be there for at least a year after Aaron was born. "You don't have to do that, Claire," he protested. "Not unless you _want_ to." It was true that she drove him crazy at times, but wasn't that what siblings were for? "We love having you and Aaron here." It had given him the chance to really get to know her and to build the kind of relationship they should have had since they were kids.

"That's just it, Jack – '_we'_," she repeated and he had no idea what she was trying to tell him until she added, "The only reason I moved in here was because I needed help and you needed someone to make sure you didn't work yourself to death. But you have Kate now and I… have Charlie."

He realised then that this wasn't about her intruding on _his_ life: it was about her finally having one of her own.

"I heard you guys are talking about starting a family," she said, as if to remind him that she wasn't the only one moving forward with her relationship.

"Not right away," he explained before she could get it into her head that they were already planning to make her an aunty. "Just some time in the future."

"What brought that about?" she asked. "I thought you said you were happy just being Aaron's cool Uncle Jack?"

Now that he had Kate, it struck him that he'd never _really_ been happy with this arrangement. He wanted to be a father – even before his disastrous marriage to Sarah – he just didn't think it was in the cards for him. "I guess spending all this time with him made me realise how much I like having a baby around," he confessed.

"Well, I'm happy for you, big brother," she assured him. "You deserve it." He could remember Kate saying something similar what seemed like an eternity ago. So much had happened since then; at the time, he'd never imagined that it would be her who brought out that change in him.

Or Claire. "I'm happy for you too," he told her.

* * *

"Where do you want this?"

Jack held a cardboard box overflowing with blue, white and brown stuffed animals out in front of him, waiting for Claire to tell him what to do with it.

"Here is fine," she assured him, pointing to the table that held Charlie's laptop. "I'll sort through them all later."

Jack set the box next to a bunch of others containing Aaron's baby blankets, toys and bath products. "There you go," he told her, brushing his hands on the sides of his jeans. "I think that's it." At least for the load he and Kate had brought over.

It was Sunday, and since Charlie didn't have a car, Jack and Kate had spent the morning loading his truck with all of Claire and Aaron's worldly possessions and driving back and forth between the two apartments.

Kate rushed to answer Aaron's cries while his mother was busy directing Jack and Charlie in where to put their belongings, returning from Claire's room with him. Instead of laying him in his car seat on the couch though, where he could watch the activity around him, she made slow circles around the room with him in her arms, even after he started to drift back to sleep.

Once there was nothing left to do but unpack, Charlie found half a six pack and a can of soda for Claire in the fridge and the four of them stood in the kitchen, toasting Claire and Charlie and their new living arrangements.

"Thanks for doing this, you guys," Claire said after they all finished their drinks and it came time for Jack and Kate to leave them to it.

"What's one more favour?" Jack agreed, grinning as he stooped to hug his baby sister.

"You realise you're gonna have to give him back now, right?" he teased Kate when she showed no signs of putting his nephew down, but as usual, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off of them. Together they made a beautiful tableau, although he couldn't help thinking how much more perfect it would be when it was their own child that she was holding.

She had shifted him to her left shoulder so that she could nurse her beer. "Are you sure we can't just take him with us?" she complained, glancing down at him with a smile. His blonde head was tilted so that his check pressed into her collarbone, his little hands curled into fists, arms hanging limply by his sides. "Look how comfortable he is."

"I'm pretty sure that's called 'kidnapping', Kate," Jack deadpanned and both Claire and Charlie laughed.

"Fine," she agreed with an exaggerated pout as she worked on peeling him away from the warmth of her body without disturbing him. "But only if you promise to call us next time you need a sitter," she told Claire and his sister agreed.

"You better watch out, mate – this one's got that slightly manic look in her eyes," Charlie cautioned Jack in a theatrical whisper, covering his mouth with his hand. "Next thing you know, she'll be treating you like some kind of prize stud."

While Kate had suggested waiting a year, Jack had a feeling that the subject would come up again before that, but although this would have scared him at one time, he was already looking forward to it, whenever it happened.

Charlie smirked at Kate and she made a face. "Ha, ha. Very funny," she retorted as she removed the towel from her shoulder and handed it and the baby carefully over to Claire, who resettled him against her own chest.

"Well I do try," Charlie quipped and this time, Kate joined in their laughter.

"I guess this is goodbye for now then," she said, catching Claire in a quick, sisterly hug. She bent to kiss Aaron's hair, and as the two women engaged in friendly banter, Jack seized the opportunity to pull his sister's new boyfriend aside.

"Take care of them," he told him in a low voice, making his warning clear. He wouldn't stand for Claire being hurt again, or Aaron by extension, for that matter.

Charlie clapped him on the shoulder, his expression more serious than Jack had ever seen it. "Always," he agreed.

* * *

"It's so quiet," Kate said, craning her neck to look at Jack as they lay on his couch together after dinner, watching a movie on TV while Leo lolled on the rug a few feet away, cleaning the bones with his teeth.

"Yeah. I keep expecting to hear Aaron," Jack agreed. Once, on the way back from the bathroom, he'd poked his head into his darkened room to check on him before remembering that he wasn't in there. He was so used to his presence and Claire's; it was a strange feeling, knowing that tonight, at least, they were completely alone.  
"It's only across town," Kate reminded him, twisting onto her back. She fixed him with a sympathetic smile, reaching up to trace his jaw line gently with her fingertips. "You'll still see them all the time."

"I guess I just forgot how empty this place feels without them," he confessed, lifting his own hand to cover hers. He hadn't realised how much he liked having his sister and nephew – his family – around him until they were gone. He didn't know if he could go back to it just being him.

"It's not empty," Kate insisted. "Leo is here now and I'm still down the hall."

Even that was too far away. He let go of her and sat up, and she followed suit. "I know we agreed to wait on a having baby, but I think you should move in," he blurted out. Now that he had all of this extra space, it seemed like the next step for them, especially when he was already considering proposing to her.

When she just stared at him, her green eyes wide, he added lamely, "It seems crazy for you to keep paying rent on your apartment when you're hardly ever there."

"So what you're saying is, this is purely a practical decision?" she teased him when she recovered from her shock.

Why did she always push him into a position where he was forced to reveal his hand? "You have to make me spell everything out, don't you?" he complained with a groan.

"Yep," she agreed happily.

"Okay." It was actually something he'd given a lot of thought since Claire announced to him that she was moving out. "The nights I just spent without you – wondering where you were, what you were doing – were torture," he explained. If the experience had taught him anything, it was that he had no desire to go back to living the bachelor lifestyle, working thirty hour shifts until he crashed in the on call room, only to get up and do it all again the next day. He wanted a _real_ life, with her. "I wanna go to work and know that you'll always be here when I get home. I want us to live together."

"I want that too," she told him, flashing him a tiny half smile.

"Is that a yes?" he pressed, hardly daring to believe his ears. It wasn't that long ago that he was ready to give up, and now here he was with everything he'd ever wanted finally within reach.

"That's a yes," she agreed, grinning when he responded by grabbing her and kissing her, her next words muffled by his mouth. "I'll move in with you."

"And when we're ready," he teased her without breaking the kiss fully, "we already have a nursery…"

* * *

Epilogue: The two couples gather for Christmas and Leo gets a playmate... ;)


	30. Epilogue

Thanks for the reviews. I decided to do something a little different with this chapter and have it from Claire's POV. It's set about one year after the last one. ;)

* * *

Epilogue

The doorbell sounded while Claire was in the kitchen, checking on dinner. "Can you answer that?" she called to Charlie, taking the roast out and depositing it on top of the stove so that she could arrange the potato pieces around it.

Out in the hall, she heard the murmur of excited voices and then he yelled back, "They're here!"

Peeling off her oven mitts, Claire threw them onto the counter and went out to meet her family. "Merry Christmas!" she greeted them, rushing forward to embrace her brother, who hastily relieved himself of an armload of parcels in order to accommodate her.

"Careful," Kate warned her when it was her turn, shifting the little red bundle she was nursing into one arm so that she could hug her with the other. "We just got her to sleep."

When the two women released each other, Claire stepped back to take in her soon-to-be sister. Her black maternity top disguised her belly, but from what Claire could tell, she was almost back to her normal shape. "I can't believe you only gave birth a week ago," she gushed. "You look amazing!"

"You haven't seen me naked," Kate reminded her with a self-deprecating smile, drawing a smirk out of Jack, who clearly didn't understand her complaint.

The baby wasn't due to arrive until the New Year, but to everyone's surprise and delight, she'd decided to make her entrance into the world a fortnight earlier than expected. Christmas Eve marked the anniversary of her first week of life, and her first trip to the paediatrician's office for the never-ending string of infant check ups that Aaron – now almost eighteen months old – had just finished.

"How is she?" Claire asked, remembering how anxious Kate had been when she spoke to her on the phone that morning, convinced, just as she had been, that the exam would uncover something the ultrasounds had missed.

Kate averted her eyes to her sleeping daughter, glowing with maternal pride as she answered, "Perfect."

Watching them, Jack's expression softened and he bent to grip the toes of an exposed foot – no bigger than the pad of his thumb –, pressing the sole to his lips before tucking it back inside the folds of her blanket.

"I could've told you that!" Claire teased them. Her brand new niece was every bit as beautiful as she'd imagined their babies to be, second only to Aaron in cuteness, although she did have the advantage of being more than half his current size.

"I was a little concerned when the doctor told us she actually _lost_ weight," Kate confessed, "but Jack insists that it's perfectly normal for newborns, so I guess I'm just gonna have to trust him on that."

"It was only five ounces," he told Claire. "Not even half a pound." The hand that wasn't holding Leo's leash rose to massage the small of Kate's back, his palm coming to rest comfortably over her hip. "He also said she was 'exceptionally healthy'."

"Ah, mummy fears." That was definitely something Claire could relate to. She'd done nothing _but_ worry since Aaron was born: every sniffle, every rash, every bruise. "Get used to it. Now that you're a parent, you'll never sleep soundly again!"

While everyone else was fussing over the baby, Jack and Kate's golden retriever remained sitting patiently beside his master, waiting to be told where to go. Claire had never owned a dog herself, but she'd heard stories from people who had; each time she saw him, she found herself marvelling at how well Eli had trained him. "You brought Leo!" she said and he wagged his tail furiously at finally being acknowledged. "How's he adjusting to the new arrival?"

"He's been great," Kate told her. "He sleeps next to her bassinette and barks whenever she cries – he's even better than a baby monitor." She reached down to ruffle his fur affectionately. "You love being a big brother, don't you, boy?"

"I think he's looking forward to the day when she's big enough to play with," Jack added. "So what's the plan for this evening?"

"Charlie and I were thinking we'd start with drinks before dinner, and then when Aaron wakes up from his nap, we could do the presents," Claire suggested. They were holding Christmas early this year so that Jack and Kate could take the baby to her grandparents' house for lunch the next day. Their father had invited Claire as a courtesy, but given that Margo still hadn't entirely forgiven his affair, she'd decided that she would much rather spend the holiday at home with Charlie and Aaron: her _real_ family.

"Jack already gave me his gift," Kate joked, lifting her gaze from the baby, back up to his, and flashing him a goofy grin. "I always wanted a dolly."

He chuckled and lowered his forehead to hers, stroking the edge of her jaw lightly with his fingers. "You were the one who did all the work," he reminded her. "I just stood there."

When she first heard that Kate was pregnant, less than six months after she and Jack had officially moved in together, Claire was worried that it would put a strain on their relationship and undo all the hard work she'd put in, but for once, she was wrong. Since then, Jack had seemed happier, and more relaxed than ever: he was even thinking of taking a sabbatical so that he could spend more time with his daughter. "Aw. You guys are so sweet."

"You should've seen her trying to pick out what she was gonna wear today," Jack told them when he released her. "She must have dragged out every piece of clothing she owns. There were little sweaters and onesies all over the apartment. I thought a Baby Gap had exploded."

Claire thought of the mountains of stuff they'd amassed at Kate's baby shower and in the lead up to the birth. "_Every_ piece?"

"He's exaggerating – it was only the bedroom," Kate corrected him and everyone laughed.

"Well, she looks adorable," Claire assured her.

"She does," Jack agreed.

In honour of the occasion, Kate had dressed her in a red dress that almost covered her feet, the matching red headband standing out against the thick carpet of dark hair that already curled away from her scalp.

"Very festive," Charlie said with his usual dryness. "Speaking of picking things out though, do you two have a name for her yet? Or am I gunna have to invent one?" He pretended to think about this for a moment. "Let's see, there's Holly, Ivy, Mary …"

"Her name is Lucy," Kate announced before he could finish his list of Christmas themed monikers, which Claire suspected was pre-prepared.

It wasn't highlighted in any of the books that Claire had lent them during her pregnancy. "Is that short for something?" she checked. "Lucille or Lucinda…?"

Kate shook her head.

"Just Lucy," Jack reaffirmed.

"Little Lucy Shephard. Leo and Lucy," Charlie tried out. "Cute."

"Jack chose it," Kate explained. "Apparently he never had any doubt that she was a girl."

Claire could remember Kate telling her, not long after she and Jack broke the news, that she was fairly certain she was carrying another Shephard boy; in fact, she'd managed to get caught in the middle of more than one epic argument about it when she made the mistake of siding with her brother.

"Could I…?" She held out her arms, indicating the baby. They'd passed her around Kate's room at the hospital the night she was born, but she hadn't had the chance to bond with her since then.

"Sure," Kate agreed, transferring her carefully into them. "Just…" She trailed off, easing her palm from beneath the baby's head as Claire repositioned her against her chest, "…You know."

"She has done this once or twice before, Kate," Jack teased her, giving her ribs a gentle squeeze.

"Hi, Lucy-Goosy," Claire addressed her niece, swaying with her when she whimpered and stirred. "Remember me? I'm your Aunty Claire."

She felt her face split into a grin when Lucy yawned, exposing her dainty pink tongue. "I forgot how tiny they are at this age." She pinched her hand – the size of a doll's – between her forefinger and thumb. "It almost makes me want to have another one," she remarked and Charlie mimed bolting for the door, although knowing how much he loved being a father to Aaron, Claire was sure that he would feel the same way about any other children that they had in future.

"I know," Kate agreed. "I still can't believe she's mine." She glanced up at Jack and smiled. "_Ours_."

He closed the distance between them, placing a tender kiss on her lips, and seeing how the birth of their daughter had only strengthened their love for one another, Claire's heart swelled with pride at having brought them together. If it hadn't been for her, Jack would probably still be living alone, drinking, and working his way towards an early grave; then again, if it wasn't for him, she would have gone back to Sydney without Aaron or Charlie, so she supposed they were finally even.

It was because of Aaron that she'd been brave enough to speak to Charlie when she first noticed him busking on the corner from the restaurant where she was meeting her father. She was still a little gun shy after her experience with Thomas, but her son had given her something to talk about. The fact that Charlie had listened – and even asked questions – left a deep impression on her; so deep that she'd accepted a coffee date that afternoon without much hesitation. There weren't a whole lot of guys her age who were willing to take on someone else's kid.

Somewhere in the distance, Aaron began to cry, bringing Claire back to the moment. "I guess he wants his presents _now_," she joked, moving to pass Lucy back to her mother, but Charlie stopped her.

"You stay here – I'll go get him," he offered, heading for the nursery.

"While we have you alone, there's something we need to ask you," Kate said when he was gone.

She nodded to Jack. "Would you like to be Lucy's godmother?" he chimed in, even though they already knew the answer.

She'd dropped enough hints, if you could even call them that. "I would love to!" she agreed, flinging herself at Jack, almost squishing her niece in the process.

"We're going to ask Charlie to be her godfather," Kate assured her as she pulled back, just before he returned with Aaron on his hip, wearing the little red and white infant Santa suit that Claire had bought for him.

"Look, Aaron – it's Uncle Jack and Aunty Kate, and Leo," he said, and her son began to rock with excitement, his little face lighting up in recognition.

"Hey, buddy," Jack greeted him. "Merry Christmas." He tapped a large box sitting beside him with the toe of his shoe. "See what we got you?"

Charlie carried him over to where they were all standing, stopping in front of Claire. "And this is your cousin Lucy," he told him; Claire tilted her head up so that he could see her. "When you snoop at the presents, you'll be able to use her as look out."

She swatted his shoulder playfully with her free hand, feigning outrage. "Charlie!"

"What?" he insisted, twisted so that Aaron was between them like a human shield, to prevent her from hitting him again. "He needs to know these things. It's what my brother did to me."

Claire struggled to suppress her laughter at his antics, forcing a stern expression onto her face. "Well, your brother was a bad influence," she pointed out. She was yet to meet Liam, but after the things he'd told her, she wasn't sure that she wanted to. For now, she was just glad that he was able to get his life back on track. "Aaron isn't going to do anything like that."

"You say that _now_…" he teased her, turning his attention back to the room. "So then, shall we adjourn, now that we're all here?"

Claire handed Lucy over to Jack so that she could take Aaron from Charlie, and together the six of them – and Leo – made their way into the living room to begin the celebration.

* * *

Thanks again for all of your kind words and support -- I'll be sad to see this fic go! At the moment I'm toying with the idea of following it up with a Lucy and Leo one shot, just because I think it would be cute to see how they interact with each other once she's a bit older, but we'll see. If you want to know what I imagine them to look like, my icon should give you some indication. As for what's next, I've posted a poll on my profile, so don't forget to vote! Or alternately, if you don't have an account you can just let me know in a review. ;)


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